


In Fate's Hands

by puddleofgoo



Series: A Life Less Ordinary [9]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: BDSM, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Sex, Slash, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-29
Updated: 2009-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-13 03:12:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 142,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1210522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddleofgoo/pseuds/puddleofgoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A milk run goes sour leaving the brains of the team to take care of the brawn. But once they get back to Atlantis, they discover that the battle has only just begun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is ninth in the "A Life Less Ordinary" series and is set immediately following the events A Life Less Ordinary 8: Song in C Minor and following the Season Two episode, Duet. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Much thanks must go to my betas, Misty and Chaps, who have been very patient. If you find any mistakes it's because I didn't listen to them.

Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, USAF, was a happy man.

He looked across the table in the mess hall at his team—Rodney McKay, astrophysicist, genius, and his lover and partner. Teyla Emmagan, leader of the Athosians, and gifted fighter and diplomat. And their newest member, who just got approval from Elizabeth two weeks ago—Ronon Dex, former runner and a scarily competent fighter.

Yes, John was a very happy man.

He let the banter wash over him—Dex was still a bit quiet, but Rodney was talking a mile a minute as usual, and Teyla just looked amused, adding in the occasional comment. It would take a little time for them to completely mesh. Ford's absence had left what was still a hole in the team, and John didn't expect Dex to fill that hole exactly. No, he would make his own place, and John didn't think it would take all that long.

His name snapped him out of his reverie, forcing him to tune back in.

Rodney's fingers snapped in front of his face. "Earth to Sheppard. It's about time you decided to actually pay attention to the conversation."

Grinning lazily, John slouched into his chair a bit. "Sorry. What did I miss?"

Rodney rolled his eyes, already digging back into his lunch. "Why do I bother? You never listen. It's like I turn into Charlie Brown's teacher and the only thing you hear is 'Wahwahwahwah'."

"Hey." John said it mildly, swiping a sort-of French fry off Rodney's tray. "I pay attention. I was just thinking for a minute. You were talking about power generation and yours and Zelenka's rival theories on why we have some minor fluctuations."

McKay seemed surprised that John knew what he'd talked about, but that didn't stop him too much. "Yes, I was talking about that about five minutes ago but had moved into much more mundane topics."

"The power issue was so compelling; I had to spend a few extra minutes thinking about it. So what did I miss?" John directed the question to Teyla, grinning again at her twitching lips. He knew she was highly amused by him and McKay most of the time, and he was okay with that.

"Doctor McKay was speaking about some of the benefits of Ancient technology to Ronon."

"You control it with your mind, what's not to like?"

Ronon grunted and went back to his food—his second helping, too. When had he gotten up to get more food? Rodney just scowled at John. "Yes, point out the one benefit that only gene carriers have. Can I give you a paper cut and have Teyla pour lemon juice on it?"

John had the grace to blush slightly. "Sorry. That's my favorite part, so I forget not everyone has the ability sometimes."

Rodney shoved back his chair, picking up his tray. "I'm heading to the labs to try and get some work done before we leave tomorrow." And without a backward glance, he was gone.

John was used to Rodney's abrupt departures, so he wasn't too worried about it. "So, while Rodney and I are off-world with Lorne and Parrish tomorrow, do you two think you can stay out of trouble?"

"We shall try," Teyla said with a light smile and a nod of her head. "It had been my experience that you are the one who is more likely to encounter some kind of…trouble."

"As far as we can tell, the planet is uninhabited. There's some interesting plant life showing up on the MALP images, in addition to some energy signatures McKay wants to check out. With a little luck, we'll be back before dinner tomorrow."

Teyla's eyes were knowing. "They are serving…macaroni and cheese tomorrow night, and Doctor McKay has indicated that it is one of his favorite meals."

John smiled widely, looking over at Ronon. "You're going to love mac and cheese. Just try to save us some."

"Your problem if you miss it." The words were curt, but that was Ronon—at least as far as John could tell.

"We're a team now—you're supposed to intimidate everyone else so the rest of us get the good food." John tried hard not to grin.

Ronon glanced up, giving him a hard look. "Not my fault if you're late."

Laughing, John risked clapping him on the shoulder as he stood. "I'll keep that in mind. I need to take care of a few things before I head out in the morning, so I'll catch you guys later."

Teyla smiled and inclined her head toward him. Ronon grunted something and continued eating. Vaguely John hoped that they had enough food to continue feeding him.

Heading out, John made a bee-line for his XO, Evan Lorne's, office. The man had settled in fairly well, even taking a scientist on his team. But John knew he still wasn't completely happy about it, and he wanted to make sure he wasn't going to have to worry while they were off-world together.

He glanced up from his computer when John stepped in the door, giving him a nod and smile before returning to his work. One of the first things he'd managed to drill into Lorne's head was that he didn't stand on ceremony and saluting was not required. That got real old real fast.

"Needed something, Colonel?"

"Just wanted to stop by before we ship out tomorrow. I've never gone out with Parrish. Anything I need to know?" He made himself comfortable in one of the guest chairs, propping his feet up on the corner of Lorne's desk. His XO had learned to keep that little patch clear for him.

Lorne smirked and rolled his eyes as he glanced up again. "You mean apart from the urge to walk off without telling anyone, wandering around aimlessly, touching things he shouldn't…"

"So pretty much McKay without the attitude." Grinning, John shook his head. "But this should be a pretty cut-and-dry mission. We'll let them play for a while, and then head back tomorrow night. Since those plants Parrish wants to study are all over the place, we'll let him look at the ones near wherever the energy spikes McKay is getting are coming from. I'd like us to stay in more or less visual range the entire time."

"If he lets us." Lorne sighed. "The wandering is starting to drive me nuts."

"He'll get better. It took me a while to train that out of McKay, too. They start geeking out over the latest new toy—or plant—and forget where they are. I'll tell McKay to brief Parrish about staying with his buddy before we leave."

"I tried that already," Evan admitted. "McKay grumbled something about plants and stalked off."

Laughing, John leaned his chair back on two legs. "Yeah, he doesn't have much respect for the 'soft sciences' as he calls them. But don't let the act fool you. I know he's already talked to Parrish about following your orders, and he'll do it again, whether I tell him to or not, before we step through the gate tomorrow."

Evan looked dubious, but shrugged. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

"Believe it or not, McKay takes the lives of his staff as seriously as you or I do. It hits him hard when we lose people. So he has his own version of a briefing for any of his staff who join off-world teams. If Parrish doesn't shape up, let McKay know, and he'll do something about it. Technically, he's their boss."

"I'll do that. But he'll also get to see things firsthand when we go off-world tomorrow. Are you sure it's a good idea?"

"Is what a good idea? Letting the geeks poke around?"

"This whole mission. It's weird splitting up teams like this. I just got used to my guys." Lorne paused, realizing how his words might sound. "Not that I'm doubting your decision, but…"

John waved him into silence. "Honestly, I don't really like going off-world without my entire team either. But it seems stupid to authorize two trips, and overkill to send eight people through. They're going to be looking at plants and rocks. We're pretty sure the energy is coming from one of the natural ores of the planet. You and I can keep an eye on them, no need to drag a bunch of bored Marines along, too."

"Although some of them need to learn patience."

"Agreed. But I'll leave that to missions where I don't have to baby-sit them." Grinning, John let his chair thunk back down and swung his legs off the desk.

"Maybe we should set Ronon on them again."

John's smile turned feral. "I plan to introduce Dex as part of the regular training schedule as soon as he's a bit more settled. Between Teyla and Ronon, they'll learn pretty fast that there's more than one way to win a fight."

Lorne laughed, shaking his head. "Make sure you warn the med staff when you do that."

"That takes half the fun out of it. Beckett needs a little more excitement in his life."

"He probably disagrees with that statement. The last few weeks have been more than busy enough for him—at least that what he said when I went for my pre-mission this morning."

"He's been catching up on everything. But he hasn't had any of my team in the infirmary in forever. I don't know what he's complaining about." Standing John stretched a bit in preparation to leave.

"What are you talking about? McKay was in there last week and how about the weeks before that? After the dart incident."

John waved it away. "Minor stuff. I'm talking about half-dead visits that usually end up with one of us getting frustrated that he won't release us, attempting to sneak out, and then getting threatened to be strapped down to the bed. This has been downright tame."

"So the whole thing with McKay sharing heads with a Marine and then Ronon with heatstroke was minor?"

"Pretty much, yeah. I've actually died at least once that I know of. A little heatstroke isn't a big deal."

Lorne's lips twitched in a half smile as he shook his head. "Some days I just don't understand you."

That startled a loud laugh out of John. "I'm not sure if that was a compliment or not. Look up the report on the Iratus Bug Incident if you really want to know. That would also be why I developed an unreasoning phobia of bugs."

"I've…ah…read it. Your team gets into some strange shit, sir…if you don't mind me saying."

Shuddering, John had to rub his neck in an almost compulsive need to make sure there was nothing attached to it. He still had a small scar there. "Believe me I know. That was one experience I really didn't need."

Lorne nodded offering a sympathetic smile. "Anything else, sir?"

"Nope. We've already briefed, so I'll see you at 0800 in the gate room. Sleep well, Major."

"Will do, sir. You, too."

John headed out, spending the next several hours checking equipment, doing paperwork, and making sure things were set up to run with both himself and Lorne off-world. By that evening after dinner, he was pleasantly tired, retiring to his room. He wasn't sure if he was surprised to find Rodney sitting on his bed or not. "Hey, there."

"Hi."

John moved to the bedside, holding out his arms for Rodney to stand and step into them. They shared a leisurely kiss. "How was your day?"

"Busy, but that's about normal." Rodney sighed as John's arms encircled him. "I swear some of my staff lied on their resumes."

Chuckling, John moved to nibble on his lover's neck. "You know we can't have sex tonight, right? Oh, and you might want to talk to Parrish again about not wandering off. Lorne mentioned that he's still doing it."

"It's a waste of time talking to that man," Rodney grumbled. "And yes, I remember. So why are you starting something you're not going to finish?"

"I like the way you taste."

"And then you're going to get me all riled up and leave me that way."

John chuckled a bit evilly. "Maybe. I like you all hot and bothered for me."

He ducked his head again, putting a little more pressure and teeth into it, nipping at the skin as Rodney squirmed in his arms. "Sheppard, come on."

"Mmmmm." Unbuttoning the collar, John pushed Rodney's shirt aside, grazing his teeth over the pale skin of his lover's shoulder.

Rodney moaned, his body submitting to John's ministrations, his complaints already forgotten.

Once he had the mark to his satisfaction, he licked it a few times to soothe the skin. "Love you."

His lover panted into his shoulder, his body trembling. "Hate you right now."

John chuckled again. "I'm assuming since its late that you ate dinner already. We have an early mission, so let's get comfortable and crash."

"I don't have much choice, do I?"

Leaning back to begin undressing Rodney, John gave him an impish grin. "Not so much, no."

Rodney scowled at him, his normally bright blue eyes dilated with need and arousal, but didn't protest, submitting to John's wishes easily, naturally, fully.

Because there was only so much they could resist temptation, John left his lover's boxers and tee-shirt on, then stripped himself down to his own underclothes. They got settled in bed, tangling together easily. "Night, Rodney."

He grumbled something, but settled against John, his erection hard along John's thigh.

"What was that?" He snaked his hand down, wrapping his fingers loosely around the shaft, although he didn't do anything more than that. He wasn't trying to drive Rodney crazy. Well, not too crazy anyway.

Rodney hissed, bucking slightly into John's hand before stilling, panting slightly. "I said that sleep is highly unlikely right now."

"Mmm, you'll have really nice dreams though. About being fucked silly and stroked until you beg."

"Not quite." Rodney's voice was tight.

John kissed the side of his neck. "You'll sleep. Just relax."

"Easier said than done, you know."

John shifted so Rodney could feel his matching erection. "I'm in the same boat. So just relax and enjoy being held without getting distracted by sex."

"But I like sex," he whined.

"Me, too. But I like just holding you, too." Moving his hand back up to rest against Rodney's stomach, he squeezed softly.

"Come on," Rodney said quietly, his voice pitched low. "A little hand-job or blow-job won't kill us."

"No, but then it would be easy to say 'what's one fuck' or 'we still have ten minutes before we go through the gate'. We need to be alert and on top of our game off-world, and we can't do that if you're sore, or if we're tired because we spent the night playing."

"Come on, John."

"No, Rodney." He put a note of command in his voice, knowing his lover would respond to it. "Go to sleep, and we'll have celebratory sex when we get back."

McKay sighed loudly, obviously not happy. "But I need to come," he said a minute later, whining slightly, his voice soft.

"No, you don't." John thought the lights off completely, bathing the room in shadows.

Rodney's hand started sliding down to John's own erection a few minutes later.

John fought the urge to laugh. One of his favorite things about being with Rodney was that it was always fun, and always interesting. "Hand getting lost?"

"No." It did stop moving, though.

John pressed his mouth into Rodney's neck so the other man could feel his grin. "God, I love you."

"Still hovering in the hate area right now."

Still grinning, John just settled them a little more.

It only took another few minutes before Rodney's hand was moving again.

John had already started to drift off, and Rodney was moving slow enough that he didn't even notice it until a thumb was rubbing against the head of his erection. With a small gasp, he bucked involuntarily.

"Feels so good, doesn't it?" Rodney voice was low, deep.

"B…bastard." It took all his willpower to pull Rodney's hand away, twining their fingers and resting them both against his lover's chest. He pushed his face into Rodney's neck and panted, trying to come back down.

Rodney shifted and rocked against him slightly, the sensation sending sparks through both of their bodies.

"Rodney!" John had to let go and roll slightly away, reciting primes backwards in his head from one thousand to try and regain control.

"Come on, John."

"You're like one of the Sirens. Only with a dick." He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, willing his erection to go down.

"Come on."

Rodney was trailing his fingers over John's t-shirt, dragging the tips over his nipples. Damn him, he knew how much John loved having his nipples played with—he could come from that alone. He actually whined as he caught those clever hands and held them still. "As much as I really want to, no. I don't have many rules, but we will abide by this one."

"Just this once. We were so busy today and we didn't do anything this morning because of that meeting."

"No. We'll clear our schedules tomorrow night and fuck like bunnies until dawn. But not before a mission."

"We're babysitting a botanist! It's not a mission. It's punishment."

"Doesn't matter. And we're going because you wanted to check out those energy readings. Otherwise I just would have sent Lorne's team."

"So we go back later. We're here now and we have time." Rodney actually tried to tug his hands free from John's grip.

Flipping them, John pinned Rodney underneath him, pushing his lover's hands above his head. "No. And if you don't stop, I'll tie you to the damn bed for the night, Mister Sexy Grabby Hands."

"That's Doctor Grabby Hands to you, flyboy," he growled, thrusting his hips up slightly, catching John perfectly.

The moan slipped out before John could stop it, and he ground down for a moment, allowing them at least that much. Shuffling so he was holding both of Rodney's hands down with one of his, he reached under the pillow for the cuffs and locks he kept there. It didn't take him more than a minute to slap them on and attach Rodney to the headboard.

Rodney moaned instinctively, his eyes closing as he tugged at the restraints.

Since he really didn't trust McKay not to try something sneaky, John fished the ankle cuffs out of the bedside table and locked Rodney's feet down as well. Tugging up and blanket over them, he made himself comfortable again. "Now, sleeeeeeeep."

"John," Rodney whined, trying to shift, but only ending up tugging at the cuffs. "Come on. You can't just leave me like this."

"You're the one who couldn't keep your clever fingers to yourself. You know how hard it is for me to resist having my nipples played with."

"How do you expect me to sleep?"

"You've slept in restraints before. Plenty of times." John let his hand rest in the center of Rodney's chest, making small, hopefully soothing, circles.

"But I didn't have a hard-on that could cut glass."

With a sigh, John got back up. He fished out the gag and blindfold. Bringing the lights up enough so Rodney could see them. "Do I need to use these?"

His lover tugged at the restraints again, glaring at John.

"Yes or no, Rodney? We're going to sleep now. You can do it like this, or I can gag and blindfold you. Those are your only options."

His frown deepened. "Sleeping is the last thing on my mind."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, John rested his hand on Rodney's chest again. "I know. But I don't enforce many rules in this relationship—this is one that's absolute. I won't play games with your life. I would rather you be a little uncomfortable for a few hours before bed than dead tomorrow because one or both of us was too tired to react quickly to something."

"No matter what you do, I’m not going to be comfortable all night."

"Yes, you will. Your brain will start to shut down for me, and then you'll be able to sleep." John slipped the gag into place, not allowing Rodney to answer, although he left the blindfold off for the moment. Instead, he set about gentling his lover, pushing him a little into sub-space where he wouldn't care if he came or not.

Rodney glared at John, tugging at the wrist restraints. He certainly had a one track mind tonight.

Sighing, John grabbed the blindfold and slipped it on his lover. "I know you don't want to, but focus on me, Rodney. On the sound of my voice, the way my hands feel on you. Let go and drift. You know why I won't let you come, and on some level you agree with it. You also know that if you let go, you'll go to a place where coming won't matter."

He moaned, trying to shift on the bed—as much as the restraints would allow—but John put his hand on Rodney's chest, pressing down.

"Just relax. Let go. Trust me."

As Rodney fought it tooth and nail and for a few minutes, John doubted that this had been the right course. He'd never taken this long to go under before, had never fought it like this before.

Nearly thirty minutes later—complete with soothing caresses and whispered words—John finally felt the first signs that Rodney was relaxing, was letting go.

"Good boy, fall for me. Come on, Rodney, just let go." He had been repeating the words for what felt like forever.

The tented boxers were beginning to subside, Rodney's body slowly melting into the mattress.

It took another good thirty minutes before his lover was completely relaxed. John slipped up next to him curling his body around Rodney's. "G'nite. Love you."

Rodney sniffed a little as John settled in, tugging the blankets back into place.

After that they both slept well and the next morning was relaxed. They took a shower together, and while tempted, Rodney was still relaxed enough not to push. They separated to get geared up, and it didn't seem like long at all before they were stepping through the gate with Elizabeth's "Be careful!" in their ears. John grinned slightly as both scientists immediately started to geek out.

Rodney had his nose to the screen of the small scanner—Did he need glasses? Was he holding it closer than normal?—while Parrish was gushing over some fern growing on the side of the hill.

Clearing his throat, he was grateful when Rodney looked up immediately, although Parrish seemed a little distracted. "All right, gentlemen. The plan is to head to wherever McKay is getting the strongest energy readings. Once we get there, Parrish, you can look at the foliage and collect any samples you need, but stay in visual range. I've got point. Major, you've got our six."

"Aye, sir," Lorne said, falling into position as Rodney twirled in place, scanner held out.

"Which way, McKay?" The planet was uninhabited, but John was still alert, keeping his eyes moving. Pegasus liked to sneak weird shit up on them sometimes, so being prepared wasn't a bad thing.

"What does it look like I'm doing, trying to forecast the weather?" Rodney snapped.

John was used to the snapping, and was patient. A moment later, Rodney seemed to have picked a direction. "Stay close, and shout if we need to adjust our heading." Putting his sunglasses into his vest pocket, John took the lead, heading into the dense forest.

The trek was mostly quiet, even Rodney's complaints and comments kept primarily to himself. It was weird not to have Teyla out there with them and Lorne probably felt the same way about the rest of his team. Rodney's "hang on a minute" made them pause as he twirled around again, frowning at the small screen of the LDS before smacking it with the palm of his hand.

"Problem?" John moved close enough to try and see the screen.

"The reading's gone."

"Gone?" John looked around, suddenly on high alert. "Gone as in went from full strength to non-existent with no warning, or gone as in it was getting weaker for a while, and now it's faded out?"

"Gone in that there is no sign of it anymore and we were getting close." Rodney paced back a few steps, his eyes on the screen. "It should be less than half a kilometer away."

John caught his XO's eye, and saw the same wariness he was feeling. "Is there any natural, plausible reason the signal would disappear like that?"

Rodney frowned at the readings he was getting—or not getting as the case may be. "We're on a strange planet in the Pegasus galaxy. Anything is possible."

"Tell you what, stay here with Parrish and hunker down. Lorne and I will go ahead and check it out. We'll stay in radio contact, and come back for you if it's all clear."

That made Rodney glance up. "No. Splitting up is a bad idea. It's always a bad idea. We're three kilometers from the gate. There's no way we can run there if there's a problem."

"Rodney, I need you to keep an eye on Parrish. Lorne and I are used to maneuvers, and you're getting good at them as well. But Parrish has only been off-world a few times, and I don't want him getting hurt if we have to make a break for it." John pulled his sidearm off and handed it over, knowing that if it came down to it, he would be more comfortable if Rodney had both guns.

The scientist took it reluctantly, glancing between the weapon and John. "This is a bad idea."

"We don't have much choice. I'm not willing to risk bringing you two any closer until we've verified it's safe. We'll check in every ten minutes, and assuming its all clear, be back for you in half an hour. I'll keep the channel open." He didn't like it much either, but he wasn't walking a half-trained civilian into an unknown situation. "Lorne, you're still on my six."

"Sheppard, we should go together," McKay said stepping forward, the gun in his right hand the scanner in his left. Parrish was standing behind him looking worried, his wide-open eyes darting between Lorne, McKay, and Sheppard. "Just because a reading stops doesn't mean that something's out to get us. It could be natural interference from the soil, a magnetic field, something."

John held his eye. "That's probably all it is, and in that case we'll be back for you double-time. But I don't like the unexplained. We've come across planets that weren't what they appeared to be, and people who were really good at hiding before. If this is a set-up, you and Parrish will still be free. Get close enough to the gate to radio Elizabeth when she dials in if we miss our check, and get a few more teams of Marines in here."

"But—"

"No buts. That's an order, McKay. Protect yourself and Parrish and call in the cavalry if everything goes to shit. And if it doesn't, you can call me an ass later for over-planning." Risking it a little, John put his hand on Rodney's shoulder. "I don't like splitting the team either, but I'm also not walking all four of us into an unknown situation with no one in reserve."

Rodney scowled. "And whose fault is that?"

"Berate me later. The sooner we scout the area, the sooner we'll be back. Stay low. Lorne, let's move out."

The Major nodded, his eyes sliding to Parrish. "Listen to McKay and do whatever he says."

Parrish's eyes were wide as he nodded. “I’ll…yes. Okay.”

Without the scientists, it didn’t take them long to find the area Rodney had indicated. John kept his radio channel open, giving short check-ins every few minutes. They moved cautiously, not seeing anything out of the ordinary.

He started to straighten up, shaking his head at his own paranoia, when they were suddenly surrounded by men. Lorne’s muffled curse let him know he wasn’t the only one taken by surprise. For McKay’s benefit, John tried to get as much information out before his radio was taken as he could. “Fuck! We’re surrounded and at spear-point. No warning they were near, this planet isn’t as uninhabited as we—“ He shut up as the sharp tip of a weapon was pushed into his neck. He felt a drop of blood run down his neck.

He could hear McKay's frantic voice on the radio as he was stripped of his weapon and gear. Sounds from behind him indicated that Lorne was getting the same treatment. As their hands were secured behind their backs, several men trotted off in the direction John and Evan had come from, headed right for the scientists.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. He hoped Rodney got it together and got himself and Parrish hidden ASAP. In the meantime... "Howdy, folks. We didn't realize this planet was taken. If we're intruding, we would be more than happy to go back through the Gate and never darken your doorstep again."

One of the men looked at him intently before turning away, gesturing for someone to bring them along. They were headed deeper into the forest and off the main trail.

Lorne managed to step up alongside him, his eyes scanning the men and the situation. "Sir, if they find McKay…"

"Nothing we can do about that right now. Hopefully McKay gets it together enough to get them both hidden. He knows how, it's just whether or not he's fast enough." One of the guards glared and pushed another pinprick into his skin. Okay, no talking. Fuck.

Lorne glanced at the spear-wielding alien before finally falling silent. They turned onto several smaller trails, weaving and meandering through the forest until John was thoroughly confused. The trees gave him no sense of depth, of an overall layout.

The aliens—or planetary natives—were dressed simply and carried big sticks…spears. They seeming knew what their weapons and gear was for, even managing to finally turn the radio off. They were certainly more to these people than met the eye.

All in all, John wished he had listened to Rodney, fucked last night, and delayed the mission. Some days he just didn't get paid enough for this shit.

***

As soon as John was out of sight, Rodney started panicking. This was bad. Very bad. Everything was wrong. Nothing made sense.

"Doctor McKay?" David Parrish was looking a little pale. "What should we do?"

"Apart from panic, you mean?"

If anything the botanist's face went whiter. "Um, samples. Do you mind if I collect samples? If I just stand here I'm going to get nervous, and when I get nervous I start to babble and Ev—, ah, Major Lorne says I shouldn't talk so much when—"

Samples? What the… "Yes, fine. But your pack stays on."

Nodding, and glancing around, Parrish started to collect little bits of leaves and dirt and bark from all around them, never moving more than about three feet from Rodney. "Do you think they're okay? I mean, the Colonel wouldn't have left us here if he didn't think we were safer here, but does that mean they aren't safe? Oh dear, what if something happens to them? What if—"

"Stop talking," Rodney said, staring at the small screen on his scanner. It still was acting weird, the readings he'd gotten before still gone.

Parrish shut up, but after less than thirty seconds, Rodney realized the other man was humming tunelessly, still fluttering in circles around the small clearing they were in.

Rodney vaguely wondered if John would mind if he shot the botanist. There would be paperwork, but he could fudge it. Not like there would be anyone to contradict what he was going to report.

"What do you think they're doing now? I hope Major Lorne is okay. I really like him. I was so flattered when he asked me to join his team. I really want to make him proud. I know I'm not very good at this yet, but I'm trying, I really am. You're the image all of us on the science staff try to live up to, Doctor McKay. I don't think I can be a hero like you, but I want to try."

Oh god. He had a groupie.

Sighing loudly, Rodney turned to berate Parrish when his radio flared to life. “Fuck! We’re surrounded and at spear-point. No warning they were near, this planet isn’t as uninhabited as we—"

For a brief moment his heart was in his throat and then John wasn't talking, wasn't there. "Sheppard? Colonel Sheppard? Repeat. I’m not sure I got what you said. Damn it, John, answer me."

Parrish's eyes went wide as he froze in place, hearing the transmission as well. There were a few noises on the radio, and then it went dead.

"He said surrounded, right?"

"Y...yes. Oh... oh dear." Parrish was looking at him like he expected Rodney to know what to do. "What should we do?"

"Give me a minute." Rodney thought for a moment, his mind running through the possibilities—all of them mostly bad. But one thing was clear. Someone turned the radio off. Someone else was here and they knew there was at least one other person besides John and Lorne—him.

"We need to get out of here, right now."

Nodding, Parrish fidgeted in place. "Where should we go? Back to the Gate to radio for help like the Colonel told us to if something went wrong?"

Rodney nodded. "We need back-up. How good are you at finding your way in forests?"

Straightening, Parrish suddenly looked slightly more confident. "Very good. You have to be in botany."

"We need to stay off the main trail. Can you get us to the gate?"

Parrish spun in a circle a few times, looking around carefully. He pointed vaguely back the way they had come. "Yes. That way. We can veer off the trail, then swing back in. The path meanders a bit, so we can cut in and out from it to make sure we're on-course."

"I don't care if it takes us longer. We need to move now."

Nodding again, Parrish started to move, not making any noise as he slipped through the forest.

They walked for about an hour before the gate came into view and Rodney indicated Parrish pause at the edge of the clearing. Hunched down behind some bushes and trees, McKay tugged out his scanner on the off change he could get some readings before just running willy-nilly into the middle of the wide-open area. Rodney's scanner was still not working—even to show life signs—so he wanted to make sure the coast was clear before…

Damn.

Two well-armed men strode into their line of sight, gesturing to others on the other side of the clearing.

Parrish sucked in a breath, the confidence from his trailblazing melting away as he stared at the men.

Rodney sighed. "We have a problem."

***

John was currently leaning against the wall of the very small cell he and Lorne had been tossed into, eyes closed. Their captors hadn't said much to them, other than to grunt that "Milos" would be in to see them soon and they would answer his questions.

Yeah, right.

In the meantime, John tried to conserve his strength, and quietly worried about Rodney and Parrish. That they weren't in the cell with them was a good sign, but still…

"Do you think they made it to the gate?" Evan's voice was quiet, tight, worried. Seemed they were on the same wavelength, though.

"They haven't been caught yet, so that's a good sign. If we were watched coming through the gate, they might underestimate our geeks, which just gives them another advantage. Hopefully one McKay and Parrish will use." John opened his eyes to see his XO watching him with a measured gaze.

Lorne sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. Thankfully, they'd been untied before getting thrown in the painfully small dark and damp cell. John was glad Rodney wasn't in here. He'd finally managed to work some of his claustrophobia issues out with Kate, but John had no intention of putting that to the test just yet. The time in the X302 had been traumatic enough for both of them.

"Isn't this supposed to be the other way around?"

"They get captured and we rush to the rescue? Probably. But I probably should have warned you that this galaxy has an ironic sense of humor. Why do you think I force-train McKay to within an inch of his life?"

"Because it's fun to torture him and rile him up?" Lorne's expression was hopeful, but serious. He knew the stakes just as well as John did.

"That's just a bonus." John let the corner of his mouth twitch up in a grin. "Seriously, they're not completely helpless. And at this point, there isn't anything we can do to help them, so we just have to trust they'll make it to the gate and call for backup." While he panicked privately. God, he hoped Rodney was okay.

Lorne sighed again and nodded. "Doesn't make it any easier. What do you think they want and where the hell did they come from?"

"No, it really doesn't." John closed his eyes again briefly. He opened them again immediately as someone started opening the door to their cell. "And I think we're about to find out. Unless you have no other choice, stay quiet and let me do the talking. I have no idea how physical these guys are, and I'd like to have one of us in decent shape if it comes down to it. Let them focus on me."

The Major looked like he was going to protest, but quickly fell silent as two bruisers entered the room, tugging them both onto their feet and out the door.

They weren't taken far, into yet another tiny, damp room, this one with chairs. They were both strapped into them, ropes almost painfully tight. Once that was done, another man, this one with very hard eyes and a cruel expression, sauntered in. John was willing to bet this was Milos. "Well, hello there. My name is Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. Pleasure to meet you."

The man didn't answer, simply staring at John, his dark, nearly black eyes seeming to penetrate into his mind and body. Where the other men they'd encountered thus far had been big and hard and muscular—obviously they were members of the Pegasus version of Gold's Gym—Milos was lean, wiry. John, though, knew he couldn't underestimate him.

These people seemed primitive at first—the spears were a dead give away—but they seemed to know exactly how to disarm them even down to the small knife in his boot and they were able to hide their entire civilization from McKay's sensors. That was slightly more than a primitive agrarian people.

"So... I'm guessing you didn't bring us here to negotiate a trade agreement."

Milos moved on silent feet to Lorne, giving him the same look he'd just given John, the major shifting slightly under the intense gaze.

John resisted the urge to tell this fucker to leave Lorne alone, knowing it would only make things worse. Instead, he quietly started working at the knots binding his wrists, wondering if he could get them loose enough to get free before anyone noticed.

A hard tap on his shoulder encouraged him to stop fidgeting.

The man continued to walk around them, his eyes tracing every part of them. Out of the corner of his eye, John saw him gesture to one of the goons and a few moments later Lorne and John found their legs firmly tied to the chair as well.

This was not going well.

The only real consolation here was that if someone had to be tortured, he would rather it was him and Lorne, rather than Rodney and Parrish. He just wished they would get on with it already. Ask questions, demand information, something.

"You are in command?"

"Yes." John didn't let his gaze waver.

"Why are you here?"

"We didn't know this planet was inhabited. We are explorers, traveling through the gate to meet new peoples and discover new things. If you release us, we will leave and not return."

"There were others with you. Where are they?"

"You don't really expect me to answer that, do you?"

A quick gesture and Lorne got a punch to his stomach, the ropes digging into his arms as he tried to curl over, tried to catch his breath.

John strained against his ropes briefly. "What the hell?"

"There were others with you. Where are they?"

"Hurting him isn't going to get you any answers."

Another gesture and another punch quickly followed, Lorne coughing weakly as he hung against his restraints.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. This was just peachy. "I don't know where they are."

Milos nodded, pacing slowly, his hands held loosely behind his back. "How many are there?"

"If you were watching us, you already know the answer to that question." John tried to keep the man in sight while keeping an eye on Lorne.

John saw Milos' hand move and knew what was going to happen even before Lorne was rocking back in his chair.

Grinding his teeth together, John kept his anger in check. "What exactly are you hoping to accomplish with this? You can beat my man all you want, that's not going to make me give you any information."

"I asked you a question. I expect it to be answered. How many are there?"

"Enough that if you let us go now, maybe you and your men will survive this little stunt."

Milos stopped for a moment, staring at John. "What is your companion's name, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"It is a simple question."

"So was mine."

"Why fight over the small things?"

Narrowing his eyes, John glanced over at Lorne. He wasn't going to get his second-in-command beaten to a pulp over the stupid things. He would save that for the more difficult questions. "Major Evan Lorne."

Milos inclined his head. "Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard."

Raising an eyebrow, John had to wonder at the sudden politeness. He trusted that even less than the physical violence. "So, Milos right? Wanna tell me what this is all about?"

"You are correct in your assumption."

"Which one would that be?" He was beginning to suspect this guy was fucking with him.

"Of my name. One of my men must have mentioned it. I will have to find out who it was and make sure that they are corrected appropriately."

"I bet he's just quivering in anticipation. And now that we're all good friends, you wanna untie us and we can talk like civilized people?"

Milos' eyes narrowed. "This is civilized."

"Our definitions of civilized are a bit different, then. Mine don't generally include tying people to chairs and beating them until they answer questions."

"Which is why you are in the position you currently find yourself."

Sighing, John shifted, trying to ease up off his protesting muscles. "What do you want from us?"

"Right now? Answers to some simple questions." Milos walked past John, pausing in front of Lorne who was finally sitting upright again, sweat beading along his hairline. He was in obvious pain, but was handling it so far.

Gritting his teeth again, John couldn't help jerking against his bonds. "He doesn't have anything to tell you. I'm the one you want to fuck with. Send him back to the damn cell, and then maybe we can talk."

"I'm sure he has many things to tell me, but right now I'm not asking him the questions, am I?"

"If you're trying to get my cooperation, beating the shit out of my people isn't the way to earn it. Send him back to the cell, and I'll answer your questions."

Milos walked toward the door, pausing a few feet from it before turning around, his hand gesturing once again to Lorne. Two punches later and the Major was wheezing.

Growling, John started to fight the ropes a bit more. "What the fuck was that for?"

The man shrugged lightly. "Because I could. Because I wanted to. Because you needed to be reminded who was in charge."

John narrowed his eyes, growling again in the back of his throat. He forced himself into stillness, waiting to see what the fucker did next.

"I believe we were discussing your companions. How many are there?"

Yeah, like he was going to tell the truth. "Ten heavily armed men who are, at this very moment, closing in on our position."

Milos' face darkened. "I do not appreciate liars, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard." Another gesture and another fist descended on Evan.

"If you already know how many people were with me, what's the point of asking?" He could feel where the ropes were starting to cut into his wrists from the small movements he was making to try and loosen them. They were going to start bleeding soon if he didn't get loose.

"If I cannot trust you with the little things, how can I trust you with the more important ones?" Milos asked, his tone reasonable, smooth, soft. "How much more do you think Major Evan Lorne can take of your defiance?"

John glanced at his second. "Lorne, how much more of my defiance can you take?"

It took a moment for Evan to answer and when he did his voice was weak, filled with pain. "Whatever…whatever he can dish out."

John looked back at Milos. "I'd be a lot more cooperative if you left him alone. I'm kinda funny that way."

"You had that choice earlier."

"Not so much. Send him back to the cell. This is between you and me."

This time when Milos gestured it was at John. But instead of a fist striking flesh, John felt the sharp tug of his hair, making him yelp slightly as a gag was shoved into his mouth, fastened tightly into place.

He struggled against the bonds, growling again. When he felt the blood running down his hands, he stilled, glaring at Milos.

The man stepped forward, patting his cheek gently. "You are far too pretty to injure immediately. Besides, I didn't appreciate your tone of voice. I think Major Evan Lorne will be far more pleasant to deal with."

That made him jerk, struggling again violently.

Milos pointedly ignored him, turning instead to Lorne who was leaning forward—as much as the bonds would allow—breathing shallowly, obviously in pain. "I have a few simple questions for you, Major Evan Lorne."

John made noise, as much as he could. He wasn't just going to sit here and let them beat the crap out of Lorne, even gagged. If he made enough of a nuisance of himself, maybe they would ignore the Major.

Milos looked at him, narrowing his eyes. Even though his eyes stayed on John, the words were for the man standing behind his chair. "If he does that again, snap his neck. I'm not in the mood."

John stilled, panting hard as he glared. He saw the Major glance in his direction, but he didn't take his eyes off Milos.

The man nodded his head, apparently filing something away, before turning to Evan. "Let's begin with the question that seemed to have stumped your companion. How many are there?"

Lorne was visibly trying to gather himself. "I don't know."

"I'm disappointed. I had hoped you had more sense than your commander." Milos gestured once and John felt the goon behind him grab hold of his left pinkie finger. He snapped it a beat later.

Throwing his head back, John screamed through the gag. He hadn't been expecting the pain, so he wasn't prepared for it. Breathing hard, he forced himself to look Lorne in the eye. Don't tell them shit. No matter what they do, don't tell them anything. He only hoped the Major understood.

"Do you wish your commander to be crippled for life, Major Evan Lorne?"

Lorne's eyes had gone wide, and he was pale, but with an apologetic look at John, he steeled himself. "I'm pretty sure he would rather be crippled than for me to give you information. I'll feel really bad about it, but I'm just following orders. Sir."

"You do realize that the only option that leaves me with is killing you." Milos spoke as if he were talking about the weather, his voice cold, absent.

John caught Lorne's eye and they shared a long look. The first rule of POWs was stay alive long enough to be rescued. After a few long heartbeats, John blinked slowly, giving Lorne permission to answer.

Lorne swallowed, but nodded almost imperceptibly. "Maybe I can answer a few questions, then. When you put it that way."

"Then let's start with the one that seems to have given you the most trouble so far. How many are there?"

"Two."

Milos nodded. "See, that wasn't so difficult. Why weren't they with you?"

Lorne was watching John, looking for clues. "We left them behind to scout ahead. They were under orders to go to ground if we lost contact."

"You came through the ring. What were you looking for?"

Lorne rolled his eyes a little. "Plants. You have what are apparently unusual ones here, and we were gathering samples to test. Our people were hoping they would hold healing and other useful properties."

John silently cheered Lorne on. He wasn't lying, but he was managing to conceal the more important information at the same time.

"Are the others soldiers?"

"They have been trained as such, yes."

"Since when do soldiers care about collecting plants?"

"Personally I don't give a shit about plants. But we're following orders."

Milos nodded. "Where do you come from?"

"That's a hard one to answer. Our home was blown up by the Wraith not too long ago. Hence the looking for plants to heal us, and, as the Colonel mentioned, allies and trade partners to help us."

"You fight the Wraith?" Milos' eyebrow was raised as he paced slowly back and forth.

"Doesn't everyone?"

A quick gesture and John felt the goon's hands on his ring finger, the one that used to hold his wedding band, Rodney's and his band. The snapping of the bone was loud.

This time he had used that half-second of warning to brace himself. This time he didn't scream, but he could feel the tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes involuntarily as he sucked in a breath.

Lorne's eyes went wide again. "Why did you do that? I was answering your questions!"

Milos shrugged. "I didn't like your tone of voice."

John could feel the shock starting to set in, and he fought against it, trying to push the pain away. He was vaguely aware that he had broken out in a sweat, and had started to shake slightly.

Lorne swallowed again. "Yes, we fight the Wraith."

"Why?"

John watched Lorne open his mouth, then close it again, obviously thinking better about whatever he was about to say. Finally, he answered. "Because to not fight would be to give up. And we aren't ready to do that yet."

Milos regarded Evan for a long moment before nodding once, sharply. "Bring them to their cell and make sure they're fed and watered." He turned on his heel and was out the door a second later.

When the ropes came off and the feeling rushed back into John's arms, his knees almost buckled, the pain hitting him hard again. He would never be able to remember the walk back to the cell, only that he was suddenly sliding down the wall, cradling his hand against his chest, the gag still on since the goons hadn't removed it and he wasn't up to it yet.

Time passed—how much, John wasn't sure. Lorne was curled into himself, arms holding his mid-section while he tried to get his own pain under control. Evan finally pushed himself up and crawled over to him.

"Let me take the gag off."

John let his head fall to his chest, giving the solider access to the leather. When it was off, John moaned softly, working his jaw a bit. "Thanks."

Lorne nodded, slumping down on the floor next to him, leaning back against the wall with his shoulder bumping against John's. "Sorry, sir."

John had to swallow a few times before he could answer. "Nothing to apologize for. You did well. You're not responsible for the sadistic bastard's idea of how to make people talk."

Evan was quiet, nursing his own injuries.

Steeling himself, John used his good hand to gently probe the breaks. Fuck, they needed to be straightened, even if he had nothing to set them with. "Lorne?"

"Need to fix them, don't you?"

"Mind doing the honors?" At the Major's nod, John shoved the material from the gag back in his mouth before letting the other man take his arm.

"It's going to hurt."

John moaned a little, but nodded. It needed to be done, but he was already breathing hard in anticipation.

Lorne grabbed the pinkie finger first and with a quick tug, aligned the bones.

John's whole body jerked as he whimpered into the material. Shaking, he nodded a moment later that he was ready for the other one.

"Give it a minute. Trust me. You're going to need it."

He was sweating again, and he felt clammy. Pulling the fabric out of his mouth for a moment, John used his teeth and good hand to tear off a strip. "Use...this...to...try and...set it...a little."

"Just breathe right now, Sheppard. I'll deal with the setting part in a few minutes."

Swallowing, John leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. "This...sucks. I hate...sadistic...bastards. When we get free...I'm going to...fucking...kill...him."

"I agree," Lorne said, suddenly yanking John's ring finger into place.

Since he wasn't expecting it, John screamed again, slumping against the wall as the world went a little grey around the edges.

By the time John came back, Lorne had tied his fingers together—three of them—and was slumped back against the wall.

John sobbed softly as he pulled his hand against his body and tipped over onto the floor. "Major? Don't care what I look like. Don't give them information just to spare me. You were right. Would rather be crippled than help them find Rodney and Parrish."

"Let's cross that bridge later, Colonel."

"Just wanted to put it out there." He tried to curl into himself a little. When the worst of the pain haze finally passed, he focused back on his cellmate. "How are you doing?"

"Could be better."

"They didn't hit anything vital did they?"

"I wouldn't say that."

"Fuck. How bad?" John managed to shift his position so he could see the Major.

Lorne sighed and shrugged slightly. "I think they cracked a rib. Maybe more than one. Tooth is loose."

He managed to get himself sitting up again, leaning slightly against Lorne as the Major listed a bit into him. "The only consolation is that McKay and Parrish aren't here. No offense, but you and I are better suited to this than they are."

"Still doesn't make it pleasant."

"Well, yeah, there is that." John pulled his dog tags out from under his shirt and fiddled with them, rubbing his thumb over the ring on the chain. He was going to be pissed if that fucker had made it impossible for him to wear it again.

Lorne was quiet for a while, simply dealing with his own pain and issues, buried in his own thoughts. "McKay better be as good as he thinks he is."

"I hope so, Major. I sincerely hope so."

***

David Parrish huddled in the tiny hole they had found. It was a hollowed-out tree, and not really big enough for two grown men, but it was the best hiding place they had found that was also near enough to the gate that Doctor McKay thought they could send and receive radio signals when Atlantis tried to check in.

He was cold, and absently noted that the tree had very similar characteristics to the _Acer diabolicum_ , better known as the Devil maple. He was jolted out of his gloomy thoughts of the irony of dying in a devil tree by Doctor McKay.

"I told him not to split us up." It was said more to himself than to Parrish as McKay curled in a little, arms wrapped around his upper body.

"Colonel Sheppard? But if we had been with them, we would have been captured too, wouldn't we?"

"What?" Rodney glanced up, his blue eyes showing his worry, his fear.

"If he hadn't split us up, we would have been captured too. And then there wouldn't be anyone to go for help." David wondered at the worry. From everything he had been told, Doctor Rodney McKay didn't really care about anyone except himself. He was admired for his courage, but not well liked. David was surprised at how much of the fear in McKay's eyes wasn't for their situation, but for the Colonel and Major Lorne.

"Well, it's a fine mess they've left us in. Did they even bother to listen to me when I told them that it was a bad idea to split us up? No. Why should they listen to the man with a brain the size of a planet?" He sighed. "We just have to wait until Atlantis realizes we're overdue."

Nodding, David subsided back into silence. Of course, that just got him thinking. "What if...what if they're in trouble? What if the men who grabbed them are hurting them?" For some reason, the thought of the Major in pain struck a cord in David.

If anything, McKay's expression got darker. "Of course they're in trouble. People don't just capture other people to say 'hi'."

David felt his eyes widen. "Should we...should we do something to help them?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. But...we're supposed to be their teammates. Isn't that what we're supposed to do?"

"We're the ones they're supposed to be protecting, not the other way around. We're not trained for search and rescue operations. We need back-up."

"What if Atlantis doesn't call in? What if it's too late when they get here? What if...what if the rescue team is all killed trying to come through the gate?"

"First," McKay began, uncurling a little in order to tick off the points on his fingers. "Atlantis always calls. Second, it could already be too late, but thinking about things like that can make you crazy and I'm crazy enough as is. Third, if they're killed then I guess we're royally screwed since it's unlikely Elizabeth will send another team."

"There are a lot of plants here that look like poisonous ones on Earth. I can't imagine these will be different. In particular, Cicuta spp.—Water Hemlock or Cowbane—is pretty abundant. Will that help with anything?" He wanted to help, to be more than just useless.

McKay's eyes got wide. "I have no intention of falling on my sword or following my teammates down in some kind of suicide pact or something."

"Nono, I was thinking of using it to take out the Gate guards. Hemlock is one of the most deadly plants in the United States, and while its toxicity might be a little different here, I doubt it's all that different. It kills very quickly, and doesn't take much. Even ground water that has had the plant growing nearby can be toxic. If we could figure out a way to burn it and point the fumes towards the gate guards..."

"And hope like hell we're not in the same path as the guards or the wind doesn't change? And what if our team is out there, still alive, but in the same area as some of the guards? What then? Do we do back and apologize to Elizabeth and their families and friends for accidentally killing them?"

David sighed. "Sorry. I just...I just wanted to help."

"We need to wait. Atlantis will dial in."

They lapsed back into silence, but David got talky when he was nervous. Evan—Major Lorne, he had to think of him as the Major—got really annoyed when he wouldn't shut up sometimes. He tried, but he just couldn't help himself. "How long do you think it will take? How long will they wait to try to reach us?"

McKay checked his watch and frowned. "Depends. We're not late yet and the waiting is killing me."

"They can take care of themselves, right? The Colonel is amazing, and Major Lorne is just wonderful in the field. They'll be all right. Won't they?"

McKay's eyebrow rose. "Amazing? Wonderful? Are you sure you haven't been smoking something, giving our position away?"

David blinked. "No, of course not. Why would you think that?"

He shook his head, instead, squinting outside their little hiding place. A few moments later, two guards stalked past, not giving them a second look, but passing way too close for comfort.

David wrapped his arms around himself and tried not to shiver too hard or make any noise. He was sure Doctor McKay could see the terror in his eyes when he glanced over.

After a few minutes, McKay shifted again. "We might not be able to stay here much longer," he whispered, worry and panic etched into his face.

"Where else can we go?"

"Somewhere that's not here."

David thought hard about the surrounding terrain. One of his gifts was that he was an excellent woodsman, with a talent for remembering everything about his surroundings and being able to create a mental map that was fairly accurate. It was one of the reasons he had become so interested in plants. "If I recall correctly, there was some outcroppings off to the west that might have places to hide. But they're a ways from the Gate, and we would have to get there without being seen."

"Yes, and that might be a problem. But staying here might also be a problem. Hence the dilemma."

David swallowed, watching the Chief Science Officer. "I can...I can get us there, but I don't think I can avoid the men. I'm not...I've never done that before."

"But that's the whole point, avoiding the men with the big, scary knives and spears and swords." Rodney sighed. "We need to get out of here since more and more guards are patrolling this area."

David was more afraid than he had ever been before. "If we move too far from the Gate, how will we tell Atlantis to send backup?"

"We still have time…hours. We can worry about it then."

Wrapping his arms around himself, he finally nodded. "I'll follow you out of this immediate area. You can use the life signs detector to make sure we don't run into any patrols, right?"

"No," Rodney shook his head. "It's not working."

David just hugged himself harder. "I didn't know that scanner was down, too."

"Yeah," McKay said, glancing away. "Once it went out, it went out. Something is interfering with the sensor. That's the only reason why it wouldn't be working."

He was a botanist. He was supposed to study plants. This...he wasn't like Rodney McKay. He wasn't good with technology, and he didn't like weapons. What was he doing here? Why had he let his tiny, tiny fascination with Major Evan Lorne override his better judgment and say yes when he was asked to join an off-world team? Closing his eyes, David began to rock slowly, trying to get control of himself.

"Just…stop sniveling."

Eyes snapping open, he gaped at McKay. "I'm not sniveling. I just don't know what to do. I can't keep us from getting caught. I can't—"

"If you can get us to the other area, I'll worry about the rest."

Taking a deep breath, David pushed aside his fears. He could do this. "I can do that."

"Of course you can. We have no choice. We have to."

"They're counting on us."

Rodney scowled. "I'm counting on you. That's more important right now."

Taking a deep breath, David nodded. He could do this. They waited until another patrol had passed before slipping out of their hiding place. Since the area around the Gate would, logically, have more guards, he led them away, thinking they could loop around and come back to the area he remembered from behind.

They moved slowly, ducking under cover as they went, waiting out guards and patrols that thinned the further they got from the gate. By the time they reached the area David had remembered, they hadn't met a patrol in nearly fifteen minutes. They should be safer here for longer.

He found a small outcropping of rock that was mostly covered with moss. Unless you knew what you were looking for and knew about moss, it was almost invisible. And as a bonus, it was bigger than their last hiding place. The downside? It was probably too far from the gate for radio signals. Once they were settled again, David looked to McKay for what to do next.

"How much food do you have?"

He blinked, since that was a bit of a non sequitur. “Ah, a little. Why?”

"I don't know how much longer we're going to be here and food is a priority."

Food was... Oh, yes, he remembered that Doctor McKay had a medical condition. "I have a few PowerBars with me. But I also saw several plants along the way that are quite edible. I've actually lived off the forest for weeks at a time before, so food is one of the few things we don't have to worry about."

"If you don't mind, I'll stick with the PowerBars," Rodney said with a frown. He settled into silence, his eyes getting a far away look. It was like David could see him thinking.

He settled in quietly, hoping he could find some other ways to be useful. He didn't want to hold McKay back from rescuing their team or saving the day again. Idly, he picked at some of the moss, automatically classifying it and putting it into one of the neatly labeled drawers of his mind.

"You know forests, right?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"How well can you navigate through this one?"

He couldn't help it, he raised an eyebrow. "I've done well so far, haven't I?"

McKay rolled his eyes. "Tracking. Can you track people in a forest?"

"Oh." He thought about it. "Probably. Tracking is a little different from pure navigation. But I could probably follow a path if I needed to. Why? What are you thinking?"

"Even if the teams come through the gate they're going to need to know where to go to find Sheppard and Lorne. If we can give them that information they should be able to do it a little more effectively."

"You want to try and find them?" He thought about it. "It would mean getting closer to the patrols. How did they get so many people out there when there was no one before?"

"They had to be hiding, somehow masking their life signs. If they can hide their civilization from Ancient sensors they have some pretty advanced technology. We need to know these people."

"Doesn't that make them more dangerous? You said yourself that people don't kidnap other people to ask them over for dinner."

"Of course. We're not exactly a quiet and tame race, either."

He took a deep breath. "Whatever you think is best. If we can get back to the clearing where they left us, I can probably track them down. I'm not as good as Mister Dex probably is, but—"

"But you can probably find them, right?"

"Yes. Doing it without getting caught will be harder."

Rodney nodded, his expression grim and determined. "I know, but we might not have much choice."

"Let's do it then."

"After we eat. I can't do anything else on an empty stomach."

David wordlessly handed over one of his PowerBars. His stomach was in too many knots to eat right now anyway.

McKay took the offered bar with a nod of his head, ripping it open and taking a large bite. "You should eat."

"I'd rather save them for you. I can always find something later if I need it."

"One thing I learned: eat when you can. You never know when you won't be able to and when you're running from angry natives you need all the energy you can get."

After a moment, he nodded, pulling a second bar out and nibbling at it. "Along the way, should I gather a few of the more poisonous plants? Just in case?"

"Not now. We just need to gather intel."

Once they were ready to move again, it didn't take David long to find the clearing where they had last seen Sheppard and Evan. From there, they spent the next hour first tracking them to the clearing where the readings had been coming from, and from there to a small, enclosed village of sorts.

"Are you sure this is it?"

Whispering softly, David nodded. "As sure as I can be. The tracks lead here."

"They could be anywhere."

A scream ripped through the air, making both their eyes widen.

McKay straightened up, his entire body tensing. "Oh god."

"That was..."

He nodded, his body shaking slightly. "Sheppard."

David swallowed hard, and they spent several tense minutes waiting, but there was no other sound from the village. "What do you think...?"

McKay swallowed thickly, his hands shaking as he clenched his hands into a fist. "I think we might not be able to wait."

Parrish nodded. "Okay. Let's go get them free."

The scientist turned, looking at Parrish with wide-eyed surprise. "Just like that?"

"Well, I'm hoping you can come up with something more brilliant than my idea of slipping hemlock into their beer or whatever they're drinking." His eyes hardened. The Colonel might not be on his team, but he had a lot of respect for the man, and that scream…he wasn't going to think about what these bastards could be doing to Evan. He just knew they had to get them free.

"Of course I can come up with something better," McKay said, his chin tilting up.

David sat back on his heels, looking at McKay expectantly.

"Just…" McKay's face fell a little, some of his arrogance fading. "Just give me a minute or two."

***

Evan Lorne was bored. And worried. And sore. And angry. And concerned. And…actually the list could go on for quite some time.

A simple "Let's look at the pretty plants and trees and weird fluctuating energy signatures" had turned into the mission from hell.

Never, ever again would he go on a mission with Sheppard. Too many bad things happened to this team and honestly, he would rather avoid any unpleasantness if he could.

Sheppard had finally fallen to sleep a little while ago after eating a little of the gruel and water they'd been served by the stony-faced and silent guard. Apparently talking to the prisoners was not allowed.

Leaning against the wall, the cold of the stone seeped into his back. For once the angry natives hadn't stolen their clothes or shoes, so at least they had that as a positive. The rest so far…mostly negative.

The ring on Sheppard's tags had been enlightening. He'd thought the Colonel was unattached—especially with his reputation as the Pegasus' version of Captain Kirk. It was hard to figure him out and he wasn't about ready to ask "the" questions. Besides, it wasn't like Sheppard had to tell in any case.

But even if Sheppard did swing that way, Lorne hadn't quite figured out who it was. At first he'd thought it was McKay, but after spending any time with the man, Lorne knew he would rather gouge his own eyes out than spend an extended time with the scientist. And from the comments and the tired sighs John gave him, it seemed like that might be the case for him as well.

Lorne figured that "helping Beckett with McKay" on the Daedalus had been a cover for a few quick rolls in the hay.

Now he wasn't so sure.

And really it didn't matter in any case. Who you screwed didn't make a difference as long as you could do the job—at least that's the way he thought. He'd seen enough during his career at his various postings to not be bothered by most things.

But right now, none of that mattered. Right now they needed to get out of here—preferably before the sick bastards found McKay and Parrish. While he wasn't a fan of McKay—way too arrogant for him—he didn't want to see anything happen to him…them…either of them.

Sheppard twitched slightly, moaning softly. "...dney..."

Well…

Lorne leaned over and tapped the Colonel lightly, trying to jar him out of whatever state of mind he was in.

His eyes snapped open, alert and wary, before the pain visibly hit him again. "So not a bad dream, huh?"

"Wish it was. The only thing worse would be to be stuck in a small cell with a panicking scientist."

"Maybe. Useful when he picks the locks though." Sheppard pushed himself up so he was standing, rolling his shoulders. "How long was I out?"

"Not long," Evan said with a sigh. "Less than an hour."

"No commotions indicating our boys were found?"

"It's been quiet. I imagine it's getting late. Might be getting dark out…not that I can tell from our luxurious accommodations."

"Wonder if they'll feed us." John moved to the door, kicking it a few times. "Hey! You plan to feed us dinner?"

"We had dinner already."

"No, we had slop, and not nearly enough at that. Not to mention that was hours ago." Sheppard kicked the door a few times before raising his voice again. "I'm not very impressed with your hospitality so far. I don't think I'm going to be able to recommend you to my friends."

"Sir…" Lorne warned as he rose to his feet, holding back a wince. Thankfully with Sheppard looking the other way, the man didn't notice. "Antagonizing them is probably not a good thing."

Sheppard glanced back at him, and he could see the anger in his commander's eyes. "I'm in pain, I'm hungry, and I really hate being a prisoner. Not to mention, if I get them pissed enough at me, they'll leave you the fuck alone."

"That didn't work so well the last time around."

Sheppard leaned against the door, some of the fight bleeding out of him. "Honestly, Lorne, I don't really think anything we do or don't do is going to make much difference. We have no idea why they grabbed us, so we don't know what they want to let us go."

"True, but antagonizing them is not going to put us on their good side—if they even have one."

"They broke two of my fingers and used you for a punching bag because we got lippy on a few questions. Somehow I don't think 'good side' is something we can strive for."

Lorne inclined his head, indicating that Sheppard had a point. "But why make things worse? Once we're overdue, Atlantis will send another team."

With a sigh, Sheppard walked back over, sliding along the wall to sit back down. "Have I mentioned I hate sitting around waiting for the next round of 'kick the colonel'?"

"Technically, I think it was called 'break the colonel, beat the major' and no, not looking forward to episode two. The first one didn't have enough plot for me."

John laughed ruefully. "Episode two sucked. Episode three was worse. They should have just stuck with the originals and left it at that."

"If only," Evan said, shaking his head as he leaned against the opposite wall. "How's your hand?"

"Throbbing. I'm trying to ignore it as best I can. Your ribs?"

"The same. If I don't breathe I'm fine."

The door banged open, making both of them look up. Sheppard grinned almost lazily. "Well hi there. If you're room service, I'll take a steak, medium rare. And a Coke."

The guard didn't look amused, instead grabbing Sheppard by the arm and hauling him upright, while another hustled Evan along. They passed the room they were in before, before being dragged into the next one over. The hose in the corner of the room and a drain in the middle were not boding well for episode two.

They were secured with their hands above their head, positioned back-to-back with several feet of spacing between them.

"Okay, so not room service." Sheppard sounded almost tired.

"Doesn't seem like it, sir."

They stood that way for a few minutes when Milos sauntered back in. Evan tensed, waiting for his commander to snark again, but for once Sheppard seemed willing to wait and see.

"You don't look happy to see me, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard."

"Our last meeting was...less than pleasant. I'm waiting to see if I have any reason to revise my opinions."

Lorne craned his neck to see Milos, noticing his over-dramatic innocent expression, complete with wide-open eyes. "I would have to disagree. We have been more than kind to you. Normally we kill intruders on sight."

"Oh, well, when you put it that way..." Sheppard sighed. "What do you want to know this time?"

"Right now, I’m not sure. I have so many questions." Milos paused, pacing around the room toward Evan. "You're looking better Major Evan Lorne. The rest seems to have done you both a world of good."

Evan heard John suck in a breath, and appreciated his restraint.

"I’m not one hundred percent if that's what you're asking. Your guards do a god job," Evan said quietly, getting a brief nod and smile from Milos.

"Yes, yes. Their training is quite complete. They just don't often get the chance to use it. Sometimes they can get a little…overzealous."

Sheppard shifted in his bonds, and Evan could picture that he was trying to ease the strain on his hand. "What do you want from us, Milos? So far you've only asked basic questions you already knew the answers to."

"Oh, is that the case?" Milos' voice was smooth, oily even. "Your answers provided me with much insight about you and your people. Like for instance, about your two teammates."

Sheppard almost audibly stiffened. "What about them?"

Milos stalked back over toward John, his hands clasped in the small of his back. "You want to protect them, keep them from me, from harm, which means that they are precious to you, much to be treasured. I, of course, am always looking to…collect things of high value."

"Value is in the eye of the beholder. They mean nothing to you, are nothing to you. I value them because they are my people."

"I value them because you value them—highly it seems. You even fight for them now."

"I already told you I was their commander. What good commander doesn't value the lives of his people?"

"With you it is different."

Sheppard shifted again. "What difference does it make? I'm not valuable to you, so why should what I value be of any interest?"

"Because you wish to keep it from me." Milos was quiet for several moments, stalking around the room on silent feet. "My men have already found where they went to ground. It will only be a little while longer before I will have them."

Evan was surprised by that. Evidently the two geeks had managed to hide, and knew enough to keep moving. Sheppard didn't sound surprised, however. "Somehow I doubt that. They won't be as easy to catch as we were. Lorne and I were ambushed without warning. They know better now."

"We shall see."

"What are you looking for? Blood? Fine, kill me and let Lorne go free."

"Right now? Nothing. And you amuse me, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. I would not throw away such an object of entertainment as yourself so easily."

"Pretty, amusing... I'm a regular one-man show." Evan could hear the sarcasm dripping off Sheppard's words.

"Do you have a mate, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard?"

"That's none of your business."

"I will take that as a yes," Milos said, coming into Evan's view. "And you, Major Evan Lorne? Is there someone who will miss you?"

"I said it wasn't any of your business. My personal life isn't under discussion, and neither is Lorne's."

"Did I ask you the question, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard?" Lorne had "danger Will Robinson" bells going off in his head.

"He's under my command, so yes. Any questions asked of him are asked of me, and I reserve the right to answer for him."

Milos was quiet for a long moment, moving to the door and letting two of the bigger guards enter the room.

Evan heard John suck in a sharp breath—it was the same bruisers who had beat on them earlier.

Crap.

They moved to one of the cabinets in the room, pulling out several instruments including a whip and what was obviously passing as brass knuckles. Another gag was also pulled out and placed on the side table where both of them could see it.

John had gone very still. Evan got the impression that he wanted to push them into beating him—the only thing holding him back was not knowing which of them would be punished.

"So these men…why are they valued?"

"I value everyone under my command, especially those I bring into the field." Sheppard was making an attempt to sound neutral.

Milos gestured to the guard with the whip who turned to circle Evan. Oh crap.

"What do you want me to tell you?" Sheppard jerked against his chains. "You asked why I value them, and I told you!"

"You gave me a generality, one step away from actually lying to me." Another gesture and the other guard was moving. The cold of the knife touched the skin on his back as Evan felt his shirt get stripped away.

"I told you the truth. You asked, and I answered. You might not understand or agree with my level of dedication to the people under my command, but that doesn't make it less true."

Milos walked over toward Lorne, staring him in the eye. His hand moved—just the flick of his wrist—and a moment later hot pain was shooting across Evan's back where the whip landed. Lorne barely held back a scream.

"Stop. Goddamnit. I'm the one you're fucking questioning. What the hell do you want from me?" Sheppard was shouting, the rattle of the chains loud as he fought them.

Another gesture and another blow fell on Lorne's back.

Evan heard the fainter rattle of chains—Sheppard wasn't fighting them, but he was shaking. Probably with rage.

Panting through the pain, Lorne listened as Milos moved toward John again. "Would you care to change your answer, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard?"

"I don't know what else you want me to say. If I did, believe me I would." Sheppard's voice was tight.

"Why do you value your two missing teammates so highly?"

John was silent for a long moment. "You didn't like my answer to that before, but it hasn't changed. They are my team. They trust me to keep them safe. That's my job, and in order to do it effectively, I have to care about it."

"Why are they on your team?"

"Because I asked them to be. I needed people I could trust, and I trust them."

Milos had starting stalking around the room, making a circuit as he asked questions and Sheppard answered. "Why do you trust them?"

"Why does any man trust another? It started with respect for their abilities, and grew from there. Trust is something you have to earn over time. They did so."

"What kind of abilities?"

Sheppard was quiet again for a few long heartbeats. "Intelligence. I prize that more than almost anything else."

Milos turned to look at Lorne. "Is that also why you chose Major Evan Lorne?"

"One of the reasons, yes."

"What other reasons?"

"I liked him. If I'm going to have someone working closely with me, that's an important criteria."

"You liked him?" Milos' voice held a note of scorn.

"Yes. I enjoy his company, and I get along with him. I respect his abilities. He's intelligent. You can't ask for more in a teammate."

Milos was silent as he considered Sheppard's words, but when he glanced up he was focused on Lorne.

"Lorne is a good solider and he's only following my commands. If you need to punish someone for whatever we did wrong, punish me."

"But I already am."

Sheppard's chains rattled again as he fought for control of his temper.

"Your commander likes you, Major Evan Lorne. Does that make you feel special? Valued?"

"You can answer him." Sheppard's voice was still tight, but Evan knew he was doing his best to try and keep the goons from using Lorne as a punching bag again.

"I honestly hadn't thought about it, sir."

"Our people don't always get the choice of commanders. Or subordinates. Our military doesn't have much room for choice. We consider it a happy accident when we work with someone we actually respect." John's voice was quiet.

"And your other two teammates?"

"Aren't military as we classify it. Their combat training came later, and in a different form."

"So they aren't soldiers."

"Yes, they are. Just a different kind of soldier than Lorne and I."

"A non-military soldier," Milos commented, on the move again. "Can I assume that one is a specialist in plants?"

"Yes. That is why we were here. I made no secret of that."

"And the other?"

"He was here to investigate the energy signatures we were reading. I made no secret of that, either."

"Two scientists, then."

John didn't answer.

Milos was silent as he made another circuit around the room. "No wonder you wish to keep these ones from me, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. Very valuable indeed."

"If you had opened negotiations with us instead of this, we would have offered the services of our people freely, in trade."

"We do not have a need or a desire for trade." Milos moved toward the door, pausing just before he stepped outside. "It is good to know of the high value of your companions. I believe I will have to rescind the order to kill them on sight. I have many uses for them. Have a pleasant night, gentlemen. The guards will make sure you are tucked in for the night."

Sheppard jerked against his chains but for once was silent. Evan assumed he was watching the guards with the same wariness he felt.

They settled into place, one to each of them, their weapons poised. This was certainly going to suck, Lorne thought as he steeled himself for the blows he knew were coming.

Episode two definitely sucked.

***

It was dark out.

They were officially overdue.

And the screams made Rodney blood run cold.

Parrish had found them a small hiding place not far from the village—if you could call it that. It was a series of huts…lots of huts with lots of people. Lots of people that didn't show up on his scanner.

So now they were stuck in what was no more than a hole in the ground as they listened to the screams of their teammates echo on the evening air.

And right now, they could do nothing to help them. The only thing they could do was stay out of sight and not get caught by the patrols scouring the area.

Rodney needed to do something.

But everything he was coming up with involved risking life and limb.

And that was something he didn't want to do, but as more and more time passed it looked like it was the only thing he could do.

He had to stop those screams.

He didn't know how, but he had to get them to stop. As it was, he was going to hear them in his nightmares for a long time to come.

Steeling himself for an argument to turned to Parrish. "I need you to do something."

David Parrish was white as a sheet, and every new scream had him flinching. "Y…you have a plan?"

"Yes. I need you to go back to the gate."

David looked startled at that. "What? Why? What are you going to do?"

"I need you to go back to the gate to talk to Atlantis when they dial in. I need to find whatever device is interfering with the scanner and turn it off."

"Can you do that without getting caught? You aren't as good in the forest as I am. And you thought it was a bad idea to split up the first time. It isn't any better an idea now."

Rodney sighed. Why did he have to argue? "I'll be fine. Someone needs to tell Elizabeth what’s happening here." Another scream ripped through the air. John. Oh, god….

David flinched again, but held his ground. "I can't...if they catch you, I can't rescue them alone. We have a better chance if we stick together."

"No. You need to report in. You're the only one of us that can get to the gate undetected. I’m going to try to re-wire my scanner and see if I can break through some of the interference just enough to find whatever it is that's causing it in the first place." He sighed as there was another scream. "Just please…they can't take much more and we have to do something."

David swallowed hard. "You can't stay here. The patrols are getting more frequent, and while I can track, I know I'm not hiding our trail well enough to avoid detection. Can you climb trees? I saw a few that were nearby. If we can get you high enough, I can lead them away from it, then hide my own trail again. After I report in, I can come back for you."

"I'll be fine. Please, go."

"Please. Doctor...Rodney. I..." They both paused as another scream, this time two voices in unison, ripped through the air. "We have to help them. Please. Let me hide you better so you can break the interference without getting caught while I go try to get backup."

Rodney sighed. "Fine yes. Hide me better, just…we need to do it now."

Parrish was on his feet and they were moving again, slipping past the patrols. There were a few close calls, but they got lucky. It was on the other side of the village—but still in range to hear the screams—when David point up. "Here. There's enough foliage to hide you once you get up a ways."

"I’m not climbing into a tree."

"It's safer. No one ever thinks to look up."

"I’m perfectly fine on the ground."

"Please, Rodney. We don't have time to stand here and argue. I'll help you get up there."

"You're right. We don't have time to argue. You need to get back to the gate. I'll be fine. Go be Leatherstocking. I'll be fine." Rodney had moved around to the darker side of the tree, already sliding to the ground. He had just enough light from the village to see what he was doing.

Parrish followed him. "You'll be found in ten minutes here."

"I'll move in five."

"Please. We can't rescue them if you get caught."

"I won't get caught," Rodney hissed. "But the longer you stand there arguing with me the likelier it is that we'll both be found."

Parrish looked like he was going to argue, then deflated. "Fine. But how will I find you again?"

"You're going to wait for the rescue team for Atlantis to come through and then lead them here. I'll have the interference field down by then. Then we just rescue the Colonel and Major. Simple."

"It's never that simple. I know we have to maintain radio silence, but I'll check in once I've contacted Atlantis."

"This time it will be."

Another scream ripped through the air. God, what were they doing to them? Parrish hugged himself hard. "I hope so. I'll be back with the cavalry as soon as I can. Please. Please don't get caught."

"Getting caught is not part of the plan."

"I...I think I could kill the men who are hurting them." Parrish looked surprised by the admission, but stubborn. "I'll be back."

"Me, too. Me, too," Rodney whispered immediately getting to work. He moved locations every fifteen minutes. It was annoying to stop in the middle of what he was doing, but getting caught now would suck.

The screams had cut off—finally!—two hiding places ago. Hopefully that meant the natives were done torturing them for the night and not that they were dead.

Dead he couldn't handle. Couldn't think about.

He hadn't heard from Parrish yet, but he wasn't expecting to. He wasn't even sure the radios would reach this far into the forest. But he also couldn't risk having someone else hear his radio—so he'd turned it off. It was safer that way.

It took his the better part of two hours to finally re-program his scanner. Unfortunately it seemed that the jamming field was coming from more than one location.

Of course it was.

With a sigh, Rodney headed to the closest location, almost getting caught by the guards, but managing to duck behind a tree before they spotted him. He still needed to figure out if he could do something about the jamming field but he had to be free and non-captured in order to do that.

But then there was that one nagging question: what was it they were hiding from?

Finally making his way to the first of the stations, Rodney ducked inside, stopping just inside the door as he took in the equipment.

"Oh no," he whispered. It was Wraith.

***

It had gone on forever.

Pain.

Screaming.

His and Lorne’s.

When they had both been reduced to whimpering messes, throats too raw to even scream anymore, the guards had roughly pulled them down and tossed them back in the cell.

John had managed to get himself rolled onto his stomach, off the worst of the stripes he had taken. Swallowing a few times to get his throat wet, he managed to croak out to his companion. “Evan? Are you dead?”

It took a minute and several whimpers before he replied. "Might be."

The door banged open again, making them both flinch, and then moan at the agony it sent through their bodies.

Two bowls were dropped on the floor, gruel spilling over the sides. A bucket of water was also left, the door swinging shut a moment later.

John was too tired to cry or scream or, really, feel anything except pain. So he dragged himself up, pushing past the spikes of agony that went through him at every movement. Crawling, he snagged both buckets and dragged them over to Lorne. "You need water. And a little substance if you can get it down."

"You're kidding, right?"

Using his good hand, John got a little water on his finger and swiped it across Lorne's lips. "No. Easy to get dehydrated when the body's been... and you used a lot of energy. Need to make an attempt to conserve when we can." His voice was a whisper, and talking hurt, but whether he liked it or not, Lorne was his responsibility and more important than discomfort right now.

"You screamed just as loud."

"I know. Once you drink and eat a little, I'll have some, and try to get us both cleaned up a little with the rest of the water. Don't really want to deal with infection if we can help it."

"I'm good," Lorne said, moaning as he shifted on the floor. He rolled slightly, coughing and groaning as he tried to catch his breath.

John put a hand on his shoulder, stilling him. He wiped another bit of moisture across Lorne's lips, the other man's tongue flicking out the catch the drops automatically. John continued to do it until Evan spoke again.

"That's enough. Really." Another weak cough accompanied the words.

"Okay." John dunked what was left of his ruined shirt into the bucket. "This is probably going to hurt. I'll be as gentle as I can." He started to carefully clean the deep gashes crisscrossing Evan's back.

The Major moaned loudly before hissing and stilling, letting John work. He knew just as well as John did what would happen if the cuts got infected.

By the time he was finished, John was shaking with fatigue and pain. "That'll haveta do f'now." He was aware he was slurring his words, but he couldn't do anything about it right now.

"Your turn, sir," Lorne hissed, already shifting up onto his hands and knees.

John just moaned, curling into himself a bit. "You needta rest. Save strength."

"I'll be quick and then we can rest. Breakfast of gruel to wake up to in the morning."

John uncurled to give Lorne access to his back. He wasn't sure if the Major had noticed that he hadn't had anything to drink or not. Even the thought of water was making him nauseous though.

Lorne worked carefully, methodically but it still hurt, hurt like hell.

By the end, John was sobbing softly into his arm, trying to muffle the sounds. Between his back and his hand... he wanted Carson's good drugs, and then he wanted Rodney to pet his hair and tell him he was going to be fine.

"I'm so sorry, sir," Lorne whispered, sounding miserable. "I'm done."

"Nothing...nothing for you to be...sorry about. Not...your fault." John tried to sit up, to reassure the other man, but couldn't seem to get his limbs to work.

"Rest. You need to rest."

"So do you. No telling what else or when the sadistic bastard will come for us again." They were both pretty much collapsed on their fronts. John could feel his tags and ring digging into his chest.

"Resting is the only thing on the agenda, trust me."

With another soft whimper, John settled down, and they both drifted into restless, pain-filled sleep.

***

David slipped through the shadows, avoiding another patrol. If he stopped to think about it, he would have been amazed at his ability to avoid detection like this. Nothing like knowing your team leader was screaming in pain to sharpen the senses.

He got as close to the Gate as he dared, climbing up into a tree with thick branches and foliage. He got high enough that any incidental rustling wouldn’t be seen as out of the ordinary.

He didn’t know how long he stayed there, shivering in the dark, before his radio beeped at him. God, he hoped that was Atlantis calling in.

Keeping his voice to a whisper, he called out. “Hello?”

"Doctor Parrish?" It was Chuck's voice, the gate tech and he sounded worried.

"Oh, thank God. Yes, it's David Parrish. We need help. Please.. I need to talk to Doctor Weir. And Eric Mendoza and Steven Naples and Ronon Dex and Teyla Emmagan." The rest of their respective teams. They could fix this. They could help him and Rodney rescue their leaders.

"David…it's Elizabeth. I need to know what happened."

"This place is inhabited. They were doing something to mask the readings. Rodney lost the signal, so Colonel Sheppard and Major Lorne went on ahead to investigate. They were ambushed and taken captive and...oh god I got us close enough to the village where they're being held...they were screaming so loud... I hid Rodney, and came back to the gate to wait for you to call in...there are guards and patrols all over—"

"David…Doctor Parrish, calm down." Elizabeth's voice broke through some of his panic. "I need to know if there are guards around now."

"Yes. I'm in a tree not far from the gate, but I can't get any closer. The patrols were light at first, but they've picked up over the last few hours. Last time I saw the Gate, when Rodney and I made our first attempt to get back, it was crawling with men. I wouldn't imagine it will be any different now."

"Is the clearing large enough for a jumper?"

David closed his eyes, picturing it. "Y...yes. I think so, if you're careful. There's a small clearing right around the gate, and then you hit forest. But if the pilot is careful, he should be able to clear it.

"Now this is very important," Elizabeth said, her voice firm. "Think carefully. Was Rodney's scanner still operational?"

"No. Well, there was interference. That was why we separated. He had an idea about taking out whatever was giving us false signals, while I came back to report. Please... Evan and Colonel Sheppard... they were screaming for so long, we could hear them... we need to get them out of there now."

"We're going to send a team in the jumper. They're gearing up now. You're going to need to meet them to direct them to where they're keeping John and Evan. Can you do that safely?"

David closed his eyes. "I can find my way back there on the ground, but I don't know if I can from the air. I'll try though. I'm about half a mile southeast from the Gate, in a tree. It's night here, so that's helping hide me. I'll climb up higher to get above the foliage. The village where Rodney is, and the others are being held, is about another three miles south of my current location."

"No. I'm going to need you to go somewhere the jumper can land and pick you up. Can you do that?"

"There aren't many places for that. Where the gate is, and near the village. Otherwise this is pretty dense forest."

"If they land at the gate, can you get to them?"

"If they can take out the patrols…probably. Possibly. There are a lot of men with weapons crawling over the area, and since the gate is open right now, I'd imagine there are more than when I last saw."

"The jumper is prepping right now. They're going to land with the rear hatch toward you."

"Oh. okay. I'll, I'll start making my way there now. It will take me a few minutes to get close. I have to avoid the patrols along the way. And climb out of my tree."

"Be careful. And you said southeast?"

"Yes, I'm southeast of the gate. I can't talk once I climb down. Is there anything else you need before I start heading for the gate?"

"No, but keep the line open."

"Yes ma'am. Hopefully I'll be able to talk to you again soon. Parrish out." He left the channel open as requested and carefully climbed down, freezing a few times when he heard people nearby. He slipped through the shadows, getting more and more nervous as he neared the gate... there were just so many patrols, there was no way he could avoid them all.

***

Rodney hated this. Absolutely hated this…the coming up with a rescue plan for an impossible situation. He'd almost been caught three times now. Each time it was only a matter of luck that he wasn't seen.

But it had given him a little bit of necessary information.

They were looking to capture—not kill—them. But they were still looking. That and someone named Milos was going to be busy come morning.

That didn't sound good, whatever it was.

The screams were gone, had been for some time, the silence putting him on edge. He only had a little bit more work to do on the second station he'd found. The first one was rigged and set to explode in a little under an hour.

And there was still so much yet to do.

Wiping the back of his hand over his forehead, Rodney dove back into the underbelly of the console, trying to ignore the creepy feeling he got when he worked on Wraith technology—or in this instance a very close hybrid of Wraith and Ancient technology.

He'd managed to figure out that there were three consoles across the village working together that provided the jamming field. One would be down in short order and his modifications on number two were nearly complete.

Then he just had to get to the other one and avoid the patrols and pray that he was able to finish what he started in less than an hour. Minor detail.

Tugging out a small block of C4, he shoved it next to the power crystal and prepped the detonator. It was a small enough block that it would only destroy the device and not the room. But that's all he needed. He needed the sensors to work so he could find Sheppard and Lorne.

Setting the timer, he pushed it into the explosive material and dragged himself out of the device, putting the outside panels back into place. It wouldn’t withstand a close examination, but a quick glance would be fine.

Wiping his hands on his pants, he nodded to himself and headed for the door. With a deep breath he peered outside, grateful for the darkness and the silence. He hid in the shadows, trying not too breathe too loudly. One more console to go.

Ducking around another corner, he glanced down to check his modified sensor, making sure he was on the right track. Once he got his bearings, he turned it off, stuffing it in his vest before moving out again.

He wasn't expecting when a hard hand came down on his shoulder. "Milos wants to see you."

"What?" Rodney managed to get out, trying to move away from the big burly man.

His arms were yanked behind his back and he was dragged towards one of the buildings. "He's been looking for you."

Rodney tried to stop his forward momentum. He was almost done. Just one more console. It was ten feet away. Ten lousy feet. "You must be thinking of someone else."

The man grunted, dragging him inside one of the buildings. Rodney was strapped down to a chair, despite his struggles and pleadings. After a moment, another, cruel-looking man walked in. "Ah. Most excellent. You would be one of the missing team mates Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard was so intent on protecting."

"I…what?" is the only thing Rodney managed to get out, his mind a whirl of fear and anxiety.

"What is your name?"

Rodney struggled to get free, shaking his head. "This is a big misunderstanding. If you just let me go I'll be on my way."

The man flicked his wrist, and the bully-boy who had dragged him here almost absently backhanded him. "I asked you a question."

Shaking his head, trying to get rid of the ringing, Rodney audibly gulped. "And I never did well with bullies in school either."

"Perhaps it is a racial trait, this inability to answer simple questions. Perhaps when you see the results of defiance, you will become more...cooperative."

"Just…just let me go and we can forget the whole thing. We don't have to dwell on the mistreatment of prisoners or the unfortunate series of events that transpired to bring us to this point."

The man just stared at him for a few long minutes, until the door opened again, and John and Major Lorne were mostly dragged in. As they were strapped to chairs, both men whimpered.

Rodney looked at the two men, completely wide-eyed. "What…what did you do to them? We meant you no harm. You didn't have to do this."

"Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. As I told you we would, we have caught one of your missing valuables. What is this one's name? He seems to have the same problem answering questions that you do."

"Valuables?" Rodney hissed, staring at his lover, his anger and fear fighting for dominance. "Why are you doing this? What did you do to them?"

John lifted his head, and Rodney could see the intense pain in his eyes. "Don't...tell them...shit."

Oh god. Oh god. Rodney could feel his eyes widening as he stared at the man who was pacing in front of them.

"Now now, that tactic hasn't really worked very well for you, has it?" The man turned to Rodney. "If you answer my questions, they will not suffer further pain. If you do not..." He gestured, and the bully boy made a fist, slamming it into John's stomach. "Now. What is your name?"

"Stop! Stop stop stop! McKay. It's Rodney McKay and please don't do that again."

"Ah, now we are getting somewhere. I know you have another companion. Where is he?"

"I don't know."

The grunt slammed his fist into John again, making him cry out with pain in a rough, hoarse voice.

"I'm not lying!" Rodney pulled and tugged at the bonds holding him to the chair, hating the sound of John's pain-filled breathing. "I don't have the countenance or ability to lie. We separated hours ago. I have no idea where he is or what he's doing."

"That is unfortunate for Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard." Rodney watched one of them grab John's hand—there were already bandages on the other. "What were you doing in our camp?"

"Looking for them. God, please don't."

There was the loud sound of bone breaking, and John screamed again. "We both know you were doing more than that Rodney McKay."

Rodney felt sick. "Please stop. I'll tell you whatever you want. Just please, stop."

"No..." John's voice was barely a whisper. "I'm...fine..."

"Nothing I have works. There's some kid of jamming field surrounding his whole area and the only way I can find them is to look the old-fashioned way."

"Hmmm. You are more valuable than Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard let on if you were able to discover that. How did you elude my guards for so long?"

"Parrish is good in the woods."

"Parrish is your final missing companion?"

“Rod…ney. No.” John lifted his head, catching his eye. “Don’t tell…”

Rodney spoke right over John. "David Parrish, yes."

One of the men backhanded John across the face. "I am not talking to you right now. Rodney McKay, what were you doing in my camp?"

"Stop please…I'm answering your questions. There's no need to do that…" He took a deep breath, dragging his eyes away from John. "Looking for Sheppard and Lorne. I heard…heard them screaming."

"Where is David Parrish? Why was he not with you?"

"He went to get help if he could."

Both John and Lorne groaned loudly, earning them both hard hits to the stomach.

"Stop! Please stop."

"What kind of help did he wish to get? My men report that the Ring of the Ancestors was open for some time, but no one came through."

"Anything they could send."

One of the men grabbed John's hand again. "You will have to be more specific than that if you do not wish for Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard to be crippled for life."

"I don't know what they can send, what's available. Soldiers, I’m sure. Maybe Marines. I don't know. I wasn't there. I just know he went to get help."

The man circled around him, his gaze predatory. "And what was your original purpose for coming to this place?"

"To look at plants. To look at stupid fucking plants."

"Ah, so you were not lying to me. Excellent." That was directed at John. The fucker had cupped John's face, running a thumb over one of his bruises.

"Look. We obviously don't belong here. Just let us go and we'll never come back."

"I do not release things I consider valuable, Rodney McKay. Now, what else did you hope to find here?"

Rodney sighed. "A portable energy source."

"Rodney. Please. Stop." John was begging him with his eyes.

"Why? If I answer his questions he won't beat you or Lorne."

"Yes...he will..." John received another punch, this time higher. He tried to curl into himself against the bonds, gasping in pain.

Rodney turned on Milos. "Bastard. Just leave him alone. I’m answering all the questions you're asking. You don't need to do that."

"He seems to believe he still has control here. He will learn better. In time. Now, why did you believe there was an energy source here?"

"We sensed one in our first pass at the planet several weeks ago."

"And how did you do this pass?"

"With sensors. They work through the ring."

"And where are you from?"

"Another planet."

"Which one?"

"I don't know what it's called. There wasn't anyone else on it so we settled there."

This time it was Lorne who received the punishment, wheezing out as he tried to evade the blow. "You are lying to me, Rodney McKay."

"I'm not lying! Stop, please! I have no reason to lie! Our city was destroyed by the Wraith and we're just trying to survive. We found a planet that looked like no one lived on it."

The man watched him carefully. Finally he nodded. "That is all for now. Think about what useful information you can provide to me, Rodney McKay. When we chat again, I will expect it."

Rodney, for once, held his tongue as Milos turned on his heel and left.

The bully boys dragged all three of them up, and tossed them into a tiny cell. From the blood on the floor, and the way both John and Lorne collapsed, this was where they were held when they weren't being questioned.

They'd stripped Rodney of his vest and uniform jacket, leaving him in his short-sleeved t-shirt and pants. Once he heard the door click shut, he moved toward the two men, trying to help them get into comfortable positions.

John leaned into him, shaking. "Need to...set my...finger. Please..."

"I…" Rodney felt his face paling. "I can't…"

John opened his eyes, full of pain. "Please. If it doesn't...get set early...won't heal right...later."

Rodney gulped loudly, scooting around to get a better look at John's right hand. The pinkie finger was already starting to swell, a light yellow-blue-black hue already forming. He glanced up at John's pain-filled eyes, begging him to understand. "I…I can't. I can't do that." _I can't hurt you like that._ It was unsaid, but understood.

John closed his eyes, nodding. "Understand. I'll walk you...through it. Evan set...other two...but he's as...bad as I am...right now."

"I'm so sorry. The gate is guarded. We couldn't get through…"

"Where is...Parrish? Captured, too?"

"No. At least I hope not."

John gestured weakly for Rodney's hand. "Hold straight. I'll pull back to snap into place. Might pass out. Just to warn you." He tried to grin.

"God, John. Just wait for the rescue team. They're coming." _They had better be coming._

"Can't. Need to set. Just hold on."

Nodding, Rodney gripped John's broken pinkie finger and closed his eyes.

He felt John yank back, ripping a scream from his lover. He collapsed back letting out another hoarse yell as he hit his back—Rodney hadn't seen it fully, but he had caught glimpses. John was trying to roll over, whimpering loudly, but didn't seem to be able to manage it.

He moved quickly, helping John roll onto his side and curl inward a little. His back was a mass of angry red marks—some of which were deep and bleeding. Oh god. He felt himself gag, putting the screams he'd heard earlier into place.

Oh god.

"Rod…ney..." It was a moan, a request, a plea, all rolled into one.

"What? What do you want?"

John feebly reached out for him. "Everthing's gonna be okay. We'll get out. Gotta hold on."

Rodney carefully caught his hand. "Not going anywhere."

John ducked his head, pushing Rodney's hand into his hair. "Be okay. Parrish will get through. Get help. Big Marines. With guns."

It was just about then when the ground shook with two explosions.

Rodney sighed. Well, at least something worked right.

***

They came for Rodney less than a minute after the explosions rocked the area. Before he was dragged away, McKay's only explanation to Sheppard was something about taking after Ford.

Lorne watched John Sheppard make an attempt to stand, to lunge for the guard after McKay, despite all his injuries, shouting for them to let go of his geek.

Evan managed to get to his feet, catching the Colonel before he could hit the floor. "Sir! Colonel!"

"If they fucking hurt him, I'll fucking kill them." John struggled briefly before slumping back to the ground, moaning.

"He has to have a plan, right? He wouldn't have let himself get captured unless he had a plan."

"He resorted to blowing shit up. That was Ford's solution to problems." Sheppard curled into a ball. "Parrish went for help. I hope to God he made it to the gate."

The door opened a minute later and two burly guards entered, grabbing the two of them and dragging them back out of their cell and down the hall. They were pulled into a new room—a larger room—where Rodney was already waiting, hands cuffed above his head. Blood ran down the side of his face from a cut on his forehead, another line of blood came from the corner of his mouth.

Sheppard made another attempt to lunge at the guard.

He didn't get far, the guard dragging him in making sure he had a firm grip on the Colonel. Milos was in the corner, watching with an amused look on his face.

"It seems that Rodney McKay is a little lost for words. Perhaps you may be able to provide a little more insight into the situation, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard."

Sheppard growled, even as they were both chained again. "Like hell I will. Even if I knew anything—which, in case you forget, I've been enjoying your company for the last few hours—I wouldn't fucking tell you."

Lorne watched as one of the guards threw a punch and it landed in Rodney's stomach. He gave a strangely strangled 'ooof' as he tried to curl over to protect the injury and catch his breath. The bonds, however, didn't let him move more than an inch or two.

Sheppard jerked hard. "I'm going to fucking kill you. Touch him again and I don't care how many fucking fingers you break I will strangle you with my bare hands."

Milos' hand moved again and Rodney groaned as another punch landed, this time in his side. "As commander, I'm certain you know exactly what's going on."

"I've been here with you having the shit beat out of me. No, as a matter of fact I have no fucking clue what's going on."

"Temper, temper, temper." Milos' hand moved again and this time Lorne found himself reeling from a single blow.

Sheppard jerked on his chains again a few times, but finally stilled, his whole body shaking with anger.

"So, now that we understand each other, let's start again. What did you order your men to do?"

"Nothing. McKay already told you we called for help. If I had to guess, you've got another few minutes to find a fucking hiding place before our people get here. If you start running now, you might just manage to survive."

"The ancient ring has not activated. There is no one coming for you."

"You just keep believing that. It will make watching you die all that much more fun."

Milos shook his head as he approached McKay, his hand lightly touching the side of his face that wasn't bleeding. "Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard was right about you. You are certainly valuable and I hate to ruin my newest acquisition."

John growled again. "Get your fucking hand off him. He doesn't know anything either. We were in your jail cell when the explosion happened. We don't fucking know what caused it."

McKay was wide-eyed and trying to remain still, but Lorne could see some thing in the way he was holding his body that he knew something. He just prayed that Milos couldn't see it.

Sheppard probably saw it as well, since he was still making enough of a racket that Milos was paying more attention to him than McKay or Evan. He had to hand it to his commander, he was bat-shit insane sometimes, but he was willing to take blows for his people. "Why don't you ask your own people what caused the damn explosion? They're more likely to know something than we are."

Milos' hand cupped McKay's cheek. "But he knows."

John jerked his chains. "No, he doesn't."

"Oh, yes he does. I can tell." Sheppard couldn't see Milos' face, couldn't see the way he was looking at McKay, his eye boring into the scientists'. "What did you do, Rodney McKay?"

Lorne watched Sheppard jerk again, making an attempt to kick out at Milos. That had to hurt, given his broken fingers and, from where Evan was standing, he could see the wounds on Sheppard's back had started bleeding again.

"Nothing. I did nothing."

"How many times do we have to tell you we don't know what happened? We can't give you answers if we don't have them." Sheppard kicked out again at Milos, this time catching him in the back of the knee.

Milos pitched forward into McKay, catching himself on the scientist. The guards immediately moved to straighten him out.

John tried to kick again, but this time he was grabbed by several men, holding him steady. He cried out as they roughly aggravated his injuries.

"Quiet him."

Over the next several minutes, the guards pummeled Sheppard until he was hanging limply from the chains, moaning softly.

McKay was shouting at the top of his lungs for them to stop, tugging frantically at the chains holding his arms above his head.

After gesturing for the guards to stop, Milos stepped forward and grabbed Sheppard's face, tilting it up. "He is more valuable than just a teammate. In fact, I think he means much more to you than you would like me to know."

"Leave him the hell alone!" McKay yelled, obviously trying to get Milos' attention away from Sheppard.

Evan could see the cold smile flit across their captor's face. "He is, perhaps, your mate? It is my experience that men do not fight this hard for one another unless they care deeply. Tell me, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, what would you do to keep Rodney McKay safe?”

Sheppard didn’t look like he was tracking. He just stared blankly at Milos.

Rodney tried the same trick Sheppard had a few minutes ago, trying to kick out his feet to get Milos, but the guards moved in, holding him still even as he fought back. "You wanted to know what the hell I did? Well, I'll tell you. I blew up your jammers."

Milos turned back to McKay. "That is unfortunate, Rodney McKay. Very unfortunate indeed. Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard is going to very much regret your actions."

"Why? He didn't even order me to. I did it all on my own as a way to get back at you. And if you think the jammers were all, think again. You might want to evacuate your people."

"He is your commander. That makes him responsible for all that you do." Milos looked over at his goons. "Break Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard's wrists and ankles."

Rodney finally managed to get a leg free, kicking one of the guards in the groin, but while one of them was curled over his privates, the other one got his hands on John's left ankle. Lorne wasn't sure what was worse: John's scream when the bone broke, or McKay's scream.

Sheppard screamed again, then his whole body went limp—the pain was finally too much for him.

"You fucking bastards!"

Milos looked at his men. "Wake him. Breaking his bones while he is unconscious does no one any good." McKay was ignored.

"What is it with you and the Wraith?"

Evan stiffened, eyes widening as Milos turned towards McKay. Fuck, if he didn't try to stop them from beating McKay, Sheppard would never forgive him. "Rodney... Stop. Please."

"It was Wraith technology, Major. I'm just glad I was able to do as much as I could to get rid of these…maladjusted excuses for humanity."

"Stop talking, McKay. You aren't helping, and getting your ass kicked isn't going to help Sheppard." Evan took a blow to his side for interfering.

"You, these guards, or that sorry excuse for a human being who is orchestrating this entire situation is not going to stop me from talking. I have no intention of shutting up because I want to know what they have to do with the Wraith."

Lorne groaned, and was surprised when he got an answering moan from Sheppard, who had just had a bucket of water dumped over his head. A few drops splashed Evan—damn that was cold. "Wha... Where...? Oh god..."

"What is it with you and the Wraith? Are you best buddies? Do you chat over Sunday brunch?" McKay wasn't stopping, his eyes fixed on Milos.

"You are very perceptive, Rodney McKay. But you should listen to Major Evan Lorne." A gesture had one of the guards grabbing hold of Sheppard's other foot.

John seemed to realize what was about to happen, and started screaming early, trying to jerk away.

"You're going to kill us anyway, so what does it matter?"

The sound of bone breaking was loud. Sheppard screamed again, before he passed out once more.

Lorne swore McKay was going to stroke out any minute now. His face was bright red and he was sweating. His pressure had to be through the roof. "We destroyed several hive ships. Did you know that? And if we could have blown up more of them we would have, but they turned tail and ran."

"Wake him." Milos didn't take his eyes off McKay. "Since his wrists will be difficult to break in this position, what would you like to see next? His knees perhaps. I can ensure your mate will never walk again, Rodney McKay."

"I. Don't. Care." And even though McKay had to be lying, in this instance Lorne would have sworn he was telling the truth. And it was enough to make Milos pause.

"Interesting. Perhaps he feels more for you than you for him. He is willing to die for you. But you? You are willing to let him. Would you mourn him, Rodney McKay? Perhaps you would breathe a sigh of relief." Milos pulled a knife from his belt, moving to press it against Sheppard's unconscious neck. "Shall I just finish it then?"

"Go ahead."

"No!" Evan tried to lash out. He had no idea what game McKay was playing, but Milos wasn't someone you wanted to bluff. So far, that hadn't worked out too well for them.

Milos turned toward Evan, his eyebrow raised. "You have something to say, Major Evan Lorne? Something to add?"

Evan panted hard, the movement had opened the gashes in his back—he could feel the blood running down into his BDUs. "McKay has obviously lost his fucking mind."

Milos looked at Lorne hard, narrowing his eyes. His words though, were from the guard. "Cut Sheppard down. If he can crawl out he can leave. Bring Rodney McKay. I can put him to good use. And as for you, Major Evan Lorne…I’m going to give you to the guards."

Evan felt his eyes widen. "No. Oh god..." Now would be a good time to come to the rescue Parrish. Come on, Sheppard keeps saying geeks are good, great even, perfect teammates. Now would be a wonder-fucking-full time to show up with a rescue party...

"Oh and make sure you finish his wrists," Milos said as McKay was released from the chains, his hands tied tightly behind his back.

Sheppard was released, both wrists broken almost casually before he was dumped in a heap on the floor, still out cold. Evan started to struggle again as they turned to him.

Milos and McKay were gone a moment later, one of the guards dragging the scientist into the hallway. The guards staring at Evan, smiled threateningly. This was not going to be fun.

Evan sucked in a breath as the rest of his tattered clothing was stripped from his body, leaving him in nothing but his tags, blood from his back now running freely down his legs. Oh, so not good. Parrish, oh god please show up soon...

The rattle of gunfire was a welcoming sounds—especially when it gave the guards pause.

Evan almost laughed, feeling giddy with relief and pain and fear—for himself, for Sheppard, who still hadn't moved, even for McKay, who, he had to admit, had done a damn good job of bluffing, even if it hadn't worked. At least he had tried, and Sheppard was still alive, mostly. Evan wasn't sure that would have been the case otherwise.

The next few moments were a blur as Marines barged into the room, taking out the guards with bullets to the head. He was released a moment later from the chains, held up entirely by Mendoza, one of his guys. Several people were kneeling around Sheppard, trying to get his vitals.

With rescue came the ability to let go and let someone else be in charge. He did manage to get out that they had McKay, had taken him somewhere else, but he couldn't tell if anyone went after him. Something was draped over him, and he opened eyes he didn't remember closing to find David Parrish only inches from him, worry and fear all over his face. "You came."

"I had to."

"Hurts. Oh god... Sheppard... my back... what..." Lorne tried to bring his brain back online, but at some point someone had stuck something in his arm, and now he was having a hard time thinking straight.

"Just breathe. We're going to take care of you."

"How? You managed to bring help?"

"Rodney was right by splitting us up. He took out the jamming field and I got the team from Atlantis." Parrish glanced up, looking toward the door. "We still have to find him."

"How? They were looking for you..."

"I was always good at hide and seek as a kid," Parrish said with a shrug. "Relax, Major. We've got you."

"Geeks to the rescue..." Evan wasn't aware he had said it out loud, but he let his eyes close as a warm hand ran through his hair. It was better than focusing on the pain. "How's Sheppard?"

"They're working on him. Getting a stretcher"

"Broken... broke both his wrists and ankles. Three broken fingers. We were both flogged." Evan convulsed as that brought back his own injuries, the pain slamming into him. "Oh god... Ribs, I think they might be...my back..."

"Just rest, Major. We'll take care of you," Parrish said quietly as another figure approached.

"Hey, sir. Seems you're getting first class service out of here," said Steven Naples as he knelt down next to Lorne. "Medics over here are prepping a stretcher for you."

Evan whimpered as he was moved. They didn't realize how bad he was until he tried to curl in on himself, a sob escaping when he was jostled. Adrenaline and fear had kept it at bay before, but now he couldn't fight it any longer.

"Just rest, Major. We've got you."

There was another pinch in the crook of his arm and Lorne felt his mind disconnecting from his body. He'd gotten the good drugs.

Surprisingly, David Parrish had taken hold of his hand. Even more surprising, Evan didn't mind, letting it anchor him as he gave himself over to the drugs and his teammates.

It was that feeling of comfort that Evan remembered as he drifted off into a drugged slumber.

***

This was not happening.

It couldn't be. It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

The guards dragged him away from the torture chamber, but the images, the memories would never go away. They were forever burned into his brain and nothing would be able to wash them away.

Milos and his guards tugged him down a hallway. They hadn't gone far when the sound of gunfire filled the air around them.

Rodney wanted to scream. If only the team had come ten minutes ago.

Milos barely hesitated. He whirled around, pressing a knife against Rodney's throat. A heartbeat later, Ronon and Teyla came around the corner, guns raised. "If you come any further, he dies."

Rodney closed his eyes, the image of John slumped on the floor flashing through his mind, his ankles and wrists broken, fingers broken.

"Let him go and I won't shoot you where you stand." Ronon sounded furious.

"Where did they find you?" Milos asked, pressing the knife a little closer to Rodney's neck.

"Sorry, McKay." Rodney opened his eyes and saw him flick something on the gun and realized he was just going to stun them both.

"Kill him, Ronon. Kill the fucking bastard," Rodney whispered. Ronon's and Teyla's eyes widened.

He felt the edge of the knife pushing into his skin for a split second before the blast from Ronon's gun hit them. It was aimed more at Milos, and his aim was good—Rodney lost control of his limbs but didn't pass out completely.

Teyla was at his side a moment later, already fumbling with the rope holding his hands behind his back, her whispered reassurances simply blending into the symphony of their mission, their rescue. He realized she was asking him questions, but he was too tired and he just didn't care anymore. Nothing mattered.

"Come, Rodney, we will bring you to John. I have received word that he is already being loaded onto a gurney for transportation to the infirmary on Atlantis. Doctor Beckett will be able to help him. He will need you to be strong."

He hadn't been fast enough. He hadn't done enough and now John… John might be crippled for life all because of him.

His teammates got him up, slung between their shoulders. Ronon almost casually pulled his gun and aimed it at Milos again. "Still want him dead?"

Rodney nodded.

Ronon pulled the trigger and Milos' body jumped. The former Runner re-holstered his weapon, refocusing on holding Rodney up.

"I want to go home," Rodney whispered, barely able to hold himself up.

"We will go there now. Come, you have all had a very rough time." Teyla guided them to the jumper. Once there, Rodney saw both Evan Lorne and John, on gurneys, with medics working on them.

Oh god. He'd been too late, done too little. He felt his knees buckling.

"It is okay, Rodney." Teyla was whispering softly in his ear. "John is alive and Doctor Beckett will fix him. You did a very good job, both you and Doctor Parrish. He was able to lead us here, and the technology you destroyed gave us full use of our sensors again."

Rodney shook his head, feeling his body trembling. It hadn't been enough.

He was lowered near John, but out of the way of the medics. About halfway back, his lover's eyes suddenly shot open and he struggled to rise, making incoherent noises of pain. He didn't really seem aware of where he was or who was with him.

Beckett was there a moment later, a needle-full of drugs entering the IV already attached to Sheppard's arm, sending him back into unconsciousness—where Rodney wished he could be.

Teyla and Ronon flanked him, and after a moment, he was surprised to find Beckett in front of him. "And how are you lad? Let me have a look at you."

Rodney shook his head, not really answering. When Carson touched him, he flinched, curling inward. He had to take care of John and Lorne. They were more important.

"Rodney. Lad, there's nothing more I can do for John or Evan until we get back to Atlantis. I need to have a look at you as well, so I can make sure you get taken care of. I'll take John myself, and Doctor Lohan will get Evan. He's one of the best trauma doctors I have. I need to know what injuries you have so I know who the best person to assign to your case is."

"Just leave me alone," he said, shoving Carson off.

Carson sighed, moving right back in to run his hands up and down Rodney's body, finding the bruises, despite his attempts to get away. "All right, from what I can tell you're shocky and have some trauma, but nothing too serious. You'll be seeing Doctor Hillsman when we arrive. I'll let you know about our two boys as soon as I can."

Rodney spent the next while in a daze as the jumper traveled back to the gate, letting Teyla and Ronon lead him to the infirmary. Doctor Hillsman really did try to check him over, but Rodney hadn't been very accommodating, the doctor finally leaving with a sigh his job only halfway complete.

"Rodney." Teyla was a bit reproving. "If you do not allow them to care for you, who will care for John while he recovers? He will need you to be whole for him."

Rodney shook his head. "Carson will take care of him."

"He will need you."

"I did this to him."

"No. You did not do anything. Doctor Parrish gave a preliminary report of what he knew—the Colonel and Major Lorne were both already injured before you were captured."

"I did it." Rodney felt his body shaking.

"No. You did not give the order to injure him, and you did not harm him yourself. It was the fault of the man who held you captive. Do not take the blame for that which is not your fault."

He shook his head, wrapping his arms around his upper body. It didn't make the shaking go away.

Teyla put a hand on his shoulder. They sat that way for what felt like a long time before Beckett came out. Spotting them, he came over, his face tired.

Rodney didn't want to know how bad it was. He already knew. He'd heard the screams, seen the injuries, watched some of them happen.

"He's got a bit of a rough time ahead of him, but it could have been much worse. The breaks were all clean, and have been set. Once he's stronger, we'll use the Ancient machine we found in the lower labs to heal those up faster. Both of them are going to have scars on their backs, but it doesn't look like infection had a chance to set in, so that should heal up nicely as well." Beckett smiled softly at Rodney. "He's going ta be fine, Rodney."

McKay shook his head, not believing it. He'd seen the injuries.

"If you'll let me finish up your own exam, I'll take you to see him for yourself. I'm going to keep you here overnight, and John's going to be with us for at least a little while. I'll put you in the same area as him."

Rodney didn't answer and he flinched when Carson touched his arm.

"It's going to be okay, Rodney." Carson was very gentle, keeping up the soothing words as he finished the exam. Rodney felt the prick of a needle, and knew his friend had just drugged him. Between them, Carson and Teyla got him into a wheelchair and brought him to John's bedside. John, who was covered in bandages and hooked up to so many machines...

Oh god. He gagged once, feeling the bile rise in his throat.

Carson's hand was on his shoulder again. "He's going ta be fine. I know it looks bad, and I willna lie to you, he was pretty badly injured. But he'll recover and be good as new."

He'd done this. John was broken because of him. Of him. He'd tried to be strong. Tried not to tell them anything, but then they were hurting John and he could still remember the screams…

This time when he heaved, Carson was there with a basin, the bile burning his throat. When only dry heaves were left, Teyla continued to rub his back while Carson cleaned him up.

"Ro'ney?" It was barely a whisper, coming from John's bed. "O..kay?"

Teyla shifted the wheelchair next to the bed, getting Rodney close enough to touch. But there were so many bandages and casts and wires and lines.

John's eyes were barely slit, and it was obvious he was pretty heavily drugged and wouldn't be alert for long. "Everyone....safe? You...okay?"

Rodney nodded, unable to form words.

"Good." John seemed to relax slightly. "Be here...when I...wake up?"

He nodded again, his hand reaching out to touch a small expanse of pale, unblemished skin. What had he done?

John's smile was almost blindingly sweet. "'Kay." His eyes fluttered shut again, as he was pulled back under by the drugs.

Rodney sat there staring at John's face, his fingertips lightly grazing John's arm until Carson finally touched his shoulder.

"He'll be out until tomorrow morning at the earliest. I'm surprised he woke up now at all. Let’s get you settled in a bed. You'll be nearby, so you can see for yourself that he's alive and here with us."

Carson's voice was kind and carefully neutral and Rodney simply nodded. He let the Scot get him up and onto a bed, before he efficiently striped him of his clothes and tugged on a set of scrubs.

"In case you were wondering. Evan Lorne is doing fine as well. His injuries were less severe, but he was going a bit shocky on us. David Parrish was the only one of you lot who was'na injured."

He hadn't been wondering, but Rodney knew Carson was trying to ground him, give him something to hold onto. But nothing mattered at his point. Nothing at all.

Beckett patted him on the shoulder, the lights around them dimming. He felt the prick of an IV being inserted, and a moment later the cool rush of drugs. "Sleep, Rodney. He'll still be here in the morning."

And the morning after that, and the one after that one, and…

"Sleep." Carson patted him again. "Things will look better tomorrow, when you're rested."

No. In the harsh light of the morning it would look worse.

"Sleep, Rodney. Teyla will sit with you both, and from the way Ronon Dex has been lurking around, I don't doubt he'll be here as well. You can rest for now."

Rodney nodded and closed his eyes, turning onto his side toward John and curling up slightly. He let out a shuddering breath as he felt the drugs finally tug him down. His dreams though were filled with screams and pain and John begging him for help that he couldn't give.

***

Carson ran a hand through his hair, watching as his troubled friend drifted off into sleep. He glanced over to see Teyla watching Rodney as well. "Keep an eye on them, lass. Even with the drugs, he might have nightmares, given how much he's in shock. I need to go give Elizabeth an update, but if he starts to show signs of distress, let me know."

"I will," she said nodding solemnly, settling in on the chair between their beds.

With another deep breath, Carson made his way out to the control room and Elizabeth's office. Popping his head in, he waiting until she acknowledged him to move inside. "You had wanted an update as soon as I had the time."

"Yes," she said, waving him inside. "I know things were a little hectic when the team got back and I didn't want to crowd the infirmary. How are they?"

He sagged into a chair. "Recovering. Evan was shocky, and had a few broken ribs. Both his and John's backs were mangled pretty badly. They took a lot of lashes with a pretty nasty whip, from what I can tell. John has three broken fingers, and both his wrists and ankles are broken. He also has a broken rib. Rodney was just roughed up a bit—nothing too serious, but from his reactions, I have a feeling he'll need to spend some time with Kate over the next few days."

"Oh god," Elizabeth said, her eyes widening at Carson's description.

"John took the worst of it, by far. I can use the Ancient machine we found to knit his bones faster, but I can't risk it until he's a bit stronger. So we've immobilized him for the most part, and once his back is healed sufficiently, we'll take care of the bones."

"How long until he gets back on his feet? Until they all do?"

"Rodney, as I said, was the least injured. Assuming Kate clears him, he should be back on light duty in a day or two. Evan will probably be released to his rooms in a few days, and cleared for duty in a week or two, assuming his back heals enough that I can take care of those ribs quickly. John..."

"Two weeks? More?"

"Given the extent of his injuries...Probably a month, at least. He was beaten pretty badly in addition to everything else. We'll keep him pretty heavily medicated for a while, and even when we do start cutting back, he's going to be in a great deal of pain."

Elizabeth paled slightly, her lips forming a thin line as she nodded. "I understand. When do you think Rodney or Evan will be up for a briefing? We need to know what happened out there. Teyla and the rest of Major Lorne's team can only tell me what they saw when they arrived and Doctor Parrish has already given a brief verbal report."

"As I said, Rodney is going to need to have a few sessions with Kate. He was in shock, and given John's condition, that is'na surprising, if he was there to witness any of it. From what David said, they could at least hear our boys screaming for part of what they went through, which, given John and Rodney's relationship dynamics...Evan will probably be lucid enough to give a report from bed, at least in part, as soon as tomorrow."

She nodded again, her face even tighter than before as she glanced down at her tablet. "Thank you, Carson. I know you'll take good care of them. Let me know when you think they're ready for a debriefing."

"I will. And I plan to rouse John for a bit tomorrow to check his reactions. If he's aware enough, I'll call you down for a quick account."

"Thanks," she nodded. "Good work, Carson. Keep me updated on their progress."

He rose, stretching. It had been a long night already. "I'm going to catch a few hours of sleep while I can. I'll see you in the morning, I'm sure. Try to get some sleep yourself."

"I will," she said, glancing up. "I'll get there in a little while."

With a final nod, he headed to his room. Once there, he shed just enough clothing to get comfortable, falling into a light, but semi-restful sleep out of years of practice grabbing rest where he could.

The next morning, he rolled out of bed and showered, making his way back down to the infirmary. All three of his current charges were still sleeping. To his surprise, it was Evan Lorne who started to rouse first—he would have bet on Rodney this time. "Hello there, lad. Welcome back."

Lorne was a little bleary at first, but it only took about a minute before he got his bearings, recognition settling in as he looked at Carson. "Thanks, doc," he whispered, his voice weak.

Carson took his vitals, pleased with what he found. "Don't thank me lad. Thank David Parrish and Rodney McKay. They're the ones who did the leg work to get a team in to rescue you."

"Remember," Evan said, nodding slightly, just the barest dip of his chin. "Sheppard?"

"He's here as well. What else do you remember? David was able to give us a description of what happened from what him and Rodney could hear on the edges of the village, and what they saw when they found you, but we don't know much more than that."

Evan closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Remember everything."

Carson touched the soldier's shoulder, pressing lightly. He had used the tactic in the past to ground patients in danger of getting lost in memory. "If you aren't up to talking about it yet, you dinna have to."

Lorne opened his eyes—pain-filled, but clear. "I've seen worse, Doc. All sadistic bastards are just about the same."

"If I call in Elizabeth, do you think you can give an abbreviated debrief? That would help me know how to treat you as well."

"Sure."

Carson made the call, and ten minutes later, Elizabeth was gliding in. He had given Evan a shot of painkillers that wouldn't cloud his head, and gotten him to eat a few bites of clear soup in the meantime. "All right, lad, why don't you tell us just what happened out there."

Evan was able to give quite a lengthy report, starting from the time Rodney's scanner had gone offline and they'd separated. Carson could feel his face paling as the Major described what happened, his tone unemotional, clinical. He tried to be as specific as possible, answering Elizabeth's questions and clarifying points as needed. By the end, Evan's voice was weakening as he tired.

"That good for now?" he asked.

"Aye. That's more than enough." Carson was appalled. They hadn't just been beaten, they had been tortured. "And I should probably warn you now, hearing that, all four of you will need to speak with Kate before you'll be cleared for duty."

"Figured as much."

Carson waited until Elizabeth had taken her leave, looking as pale as he felt. "Lad, how are you doing? And I don't mean the official stuff, or the pain. That was a lot to go through."

"Manageable. Been through worse."

Carson eyed him. "Well, you're my guest for the foreseeable future. Why don't you get some rest? If you need anything, press the call button, and either myself or one of my nurses will come." He glanced up and caught a glimpse of David Parrish, who had been hovering nearby. He smiled slightly. "And if you're up to it, I believe there's a visitor for you."

"Sure," Evan said with a tired smile.

Patting him on the shoulder again, Carson caught David and ushered him in. "There you are. I've got other patients to check on, but I'll swing back by in a bit."

"Not going anywhere," Evan said as David settled down on the bedside chair.

Smiling again, Carson slipped out, leaving them to talk. He had seen Rodney do the same sort of hovering before him and John had gotten together, and wondered idly if he would have another couple on his hands. But that was speculation for another day.

And thinking of Rodney…Carson headed toward the scientist's bed surprised to see him lying on his side, his eyes open and fixed on the wall, his back toward John.

"Rodney? Lad, how are you doing?" He moved around to stand in front of the scientist. "I didna expect you to be awake just yet."

It took a moment for his eyes to focus, but they did, his gaze finally moving to Carson. "Sore. Tired."

"I can imagine. You took a few good blows." Carson pulled up a chair, knowing that right now his friend needed to talk more than he needed medical care. "Want to tell me about it?"

Rodney shrugged, his gaze sliding away. "It hurt just like it always does."

"I wasna talking about that. You can talk to me, Rodney."

"How's John doing?"

Carson was willing to let him change the subject—for the moment. "Not too bad, considering. He'll need to heal up a bit and gain some strength back before I can use the Ancient technology to speed-heal his bones. And then we'll probably take it one at a time. But he will be fine, Rodney. He'll be up and about and back to himself in no time."

"Good, good. When can I be released?"

"Well, all four of you will be required to talk to Kate before I'll release you. Your injuries aren't bad, so as long as she clears you, probably in a day or so."

"Oh." He was quiet a moment, his eyes falling anywhere except on Carson. "Can I sit with John?"

"Aye. That I can do. Sit up, and I'll help you into a chair." Carson got him settled, noting the almost hesitant touches Rodney was giving his lover. "This is a private area of the infirmary—no one except myself, Elizabeth, or your teammates will come back here unless you call for them."

"I…I don't want to hurt him more."

"You won't. Everything that was injured is wrapped up tight, and I know he takes a great deal of comfort from having you near."

Rodney nodded, unusually quiet as he finally rested a hand on John's arm just above the cast but below where the IV was inserted. "Thanks."

"He's going to be fine. I promise. I'll fix him up, good as new." Carson put a hand on Rodney's shoulder, squeezing lightly before slipping out to give the men some privacy.

Glancing back, Carson saw that Rodney had moved again, changing hands so he could thread his fingers through John's hair, pushing it away from the man's forehead.

Carson smiled softly. They really were good together. Now, time to file his own reports, and arrange sessions with Kate for his patients. He headed to his office, already planning out his day.

***

John was reluctant to surface. He knew there was pain on the edges of his awareness, and he didn't want to go back to it. So he let himself sink, deep, floating free.

It was the feeling of a warm hand carding through his hair that finally brought him up. Rodney. He smiled a little. He loved when Rodney petted his hair. Felt so good. Made the pain bearable.

Cracking his eyes a little, he saw his lover watching him intently. The hand stilled. "Don't stop. Feels so good…" His throat felt raw, and he was barely able to whisper, but he didn't want Rodney to go away.

"Won't," Rodney whispered, his fingers starting to move once again, settling back into a calming rhythm.

"Mmmm." He leaned into the touch slightly, letting his eyes drift shut again. On some level he knew the drugs were responsible for how the world—except for Rodney—felt one step removed. He made a purring noise—pleased with how it felt, he did it again.

"Shhh," Rodney whispered. "I'll take care of you. Just rest."

"Roooodney. RodneyRodneyRodney." John loved saying his lover's name.

"Shhh, John. I’m here."

He slitted his eyes open again. "Love you. Stay here. Want to know you're close. Safe."

"I'm fine. I’m not going anywhere until Carson kicks me out."

"'kay. Good. Keep petting me? Feels really, really good. Love when you play with my hair. Almost as good as nipples."

"Yes, John. Almost as good."

He hummed happily. Drifting for a while, he just enjoyed the feeling of Rodney's fingers on him, of Rodney's presence nearby. After a while, another thought drifted to the surface. "What happened to Lorne?"

"He's a little banged up, but he's going to be fine."

"'Kay. Good. I distracted them. Made them beat me instead of him. Didn't work so well all the time though."

It took a beat for Rodney to reply. "Yes, John, you did great. Distracted them. Kept everyone safe."

John hummed again. "Good. Was worried about you. Glad you weren't there. Didn't want them to hurt you. Would rather they hurt me. You're more important."

"You should rest."

John frowned, a thought trying to surface. "You were there. At the end." He tried to push himself up, tried to shake off the drugs so he could see if Rodney was okay. "I tried to make them ignore you. Are you okay? What happened?"

"John, stop moving. You're going hurt yourself. I’m fine. He barely touched me. Teyla got us out."

John let his lover push him back into the bed. "Want to hold you."

"You can't," Rodney finally managed to say, his voice strange, thick. "Just rest, please."

"Please. Need to know you're okay..." He tried to sit up again, but was held down gently. "Rodney..."

John felt hands on the side of his face, turning his head toward Rodney. "Please, John. Stop. I’m fine. You're the one who was hurt. Please, John…"

He whimpered, trying to get more contact. "Touch me then. Please. Need you."

"I can't. If I could I would, but I can't."

He almost sobbed. "Please."

John felt a drop of wetness on his face. "Please, John. I can't…not now."

He made a distressed noise. Rodney was unhappy. He didn't want Rodney to be unhappy. "Pet me again then? Like before? That was good. Felt good. Knew you were here."

"Of course. Just go back to sleep, John. Rest. I'll stay with you."

He made another distressed noise until Rodney's hand was in his hair again. He let himself relax back into the bed. "You'll be here when I wake up again?"

"I promise."

As he relaxed, the drugs and the soothing motion on his head lulled him back down again. He didn't know how long he drifted that way until something was pulling him up, demanding he pay attention. Blinking open his eyes, the first thing he was aware of was that Rodney's hand wasn't in his hair anymore. He whimpered.

"Come on ye daft bugger." Carson's Scottish brogue broke through some of the haze.

He whimpered again. "'dney?"

"He's showering, lad. You with me?"

He opened his eyes a crack, to see the doctor hovering over him. "C'rson?"

"There ye are. Ye got it right the second time, laddie. How are you feeling? In any pain?"

He thought about it, getting distressed when he couldn't make his brain work. He wasn't aware that he was making noises until Carson tried to soothe him.

"Shush, John. I'll take that as a yes and get your meds adjusted." His hand rested on his forehead, thumb stroking gently.

John swallowed, sinking back into the bed. "Can't think."

"We really don't want you thinking too much right now. Just want you to rest." The thumb continued its careful soothing rhythm. "Do you know where you are?"

Despite himself, John felt his muscles relaxing. "Feels almost as good as Rodney petting me."

"And I'll let him come back once he isn't stinking up the area. Do you know where you are, John?"

John tried to focus. "'firmary?"

"Right on the first try. I won't ask you what day it is cause I've bloody well lost track."

He whimpered when Carson's hand disappeared, suddenly feeling like he was floating away. He scrambled a bit, trying to find something to ground him again.

"Just rest, John. Sleep. It's the best thing for you."

"Nonono... please.. touch me... someone... lost..." He started to shake, the distress of not being able to string his thoughts together building again without someone there to make it okay.

He felt a hand on his arm and he immediately began to calm. "I’m right here, laddie."

"Hate this..." he whispered. "Would rather hurt than this."

"I know, but you need to rest and the only way that will happen is with the pain medications. As soon as I can I'll start giving you less, but right now you need every drop." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Rodney's headed back here so he'll sit with you in a minute. Okay?"

"Tell him to pet me again? Helps."

Carson chuckled lightly. "I think he already knows."

"Almost as good as playing with my nipples. But he won't do that right now. Said maybe later."

Carson patted his arm. "I'll let the two of you discuss that if you want because it's time for me to duck out of that particular conversation." He paused again, the silence heavy. "Are you sure you took a shower?"

"Yes, I took a shower. Ask the goon you had at the door. I showered and ate," Rodney grumbled, his voice getting louder as he got closer to the bed.

"Showered without me?" John had a feeling he was pouting.

"You're going to be getting sponge baths for the foreseeable future, Colonel," Rodney said as a chair was dragged across the floor.

He perked up. "From you?"

"No."

"Awwww." He pouted. Again.

Rodney sighed as John felt a hand finally touching his arm.

John hummed, trying to lean into it. "Hi."

"You're stoned."

"Mmm hmmm. C'rson won't cut back on my meds yet. I asked. Hate this. Feels like I'm going to float away if you don't hold me down."

"Don't worry. You're not going anywhere."

"You'll take care of me." John smiled widely at his lover. He knew he could trust Rodney. Rodney would be there for him. "You're the bestest."

"Of course I will." Rodney sighed again. "You should sleep."

"Don't wanna sleep. Wanna talk to you." He frowned. "Think I'm dreaming. It doesn't hurt when I'm awake, but it does when I'm sleeping."

"There's not much to talk about."

He attempted a leer, but he wasn't sure how effective it was in his current state. "Could talk about what I want to do when I get out of here. When can I come home?"

Rodney frowned, glancing away. "Carson didn't say."

"Rodney? S'wrong? Want you happy."

He turned back, a fake smile on his face. Even this stoned, John could tell the difference. "I'll be fine…be happy when you're better."

John shook his head, trying to push himself up again. "Lemme help. What's wrong?"

"John! No, please stay still. You can't…shouldn't move. Please…" Rodney looked panicked.

John was getting frustrated. He lifted his hands, trying to pull at the bandages covering both of them. "Take these off. Wanna hold you. Make it better."

"No, John!" If anything, John's movement just made Rodney worse. "Please stop. You need to lie back."

He shook his head. "Why are my whole hands wrapped?" For the first time he noticed that his legs were essentially strapped to the bed. "Why can't I move my legs? Rodney..." He tried to fight down the panic creeping up.

Rodney was pressing the bedside call button even as he tried to get John to lay back. "You're hurt…really hurt. Please stop, John. You're going to make it worse."

He was breathing hard, unable to hold back the panic anymore when Carson arrived. John was trying to curl into Rodney, trying to remember what had happened... why couldn't he remember?

"Carson! Make him stop, please. He's going to hurt himself worse. Carson, you have to do something." Rodney sounded half out of his mind.

That only added to John's distress. He didn't want Rodney upset. "Rodney? Please..."

John could feel the flood of drugs entering his system, tugging him down.

"Noooo. Don't wanna....please...." He continued to fight the pull of the drugs. "Rodney... don't let me...please..."

The last thing he heard was Rodney begging, pleading with Carson to do something, to help him.

Before he was completely pulled under, he managed to whimper one more time. "Don't leave me alone..." And then he didn't know anything anymore.

***

Rodney had pushed himself away from the bed, his arms wrapped around his upper body. He watched with wide open eyes as the drugs finally pulled John under and he stopped struggling. Carson moved John carefully, arranging the blankets and his limbs so he'd be comfortable.

Finally looking up Carson beckoned him forward. "I don't think he realizes how badly he was injured. The painkillers are keeping him fuzzy and keeping the pain at bay."

McKay moved slowly on bare feet. "Shouldn't you just keep him under?"

Carson ran a hand through his hair. "That's dangerous. The drugs I'm using on him are very powerful. As it is, I'm nervous about giving him too much more. I'd like to keep enough in reserve that I can ease him into the less powerful alternatives—but those will also come with more pain. He did mention, several times, that having you, ah, pet him, helps. As I back off on the drugs, I'll probably want you here to try and keep him settled."

"I'll be here when I can. I have a department to run."

"Aye, I know. And he knows as well. As he becomes more aware, he'll be less...needy."

"I'll do the best I can," Rodney said, finally stepping up next to the bed. "Did you schedule my appointment with Kate?"

Carson patted him on the shoulder. "Aye. She'll be here this afternoon. If John's still asleep, you can do it here, or if you're more comfortable, you can use one of the iso rooms."

"One of the iso rooms would be better," Rodney said immediately, his hand finally trailing over John's skin.

"I'll set one aside for you." Carson patted him again. "I'll leave you here for a bit. Sit down and try to rest a little if you can."

"Not tired," he answered shaking his head.

"You don't have to sleep. Just sit and keep an eye on our wayward Colonel for me. If he starts to wake, or show signs of distress again, and you can't calm him, call for me."

"I will." Carson moved off a moment later, leaving Rodney with John once again. It was so hard to sit here by his side. He couldn't touch him except for small touches. Couldn't hold him. He could only stand here and pray to gods he knew weren't listening—at least not to him.

He drifted in and out of his thoughts all afternoon, never really moving once he sat down in the bedside chair. He was startled out of his reverie but a touch on his shoulder.

"Doctor McKay?" Kate Heightmeyer was looking at him, concern written all over her face.

"Kate. Oh, hi. I'm sorry, is it time already? I didn't realize that it was time." He paused, looking around the area. "Carson said something about a room…a private room—"

"Yes. He set aside one of the isolation rooms for our use." She looked at John, who was still sleeping. "However, if you would rather stay here..."

"No. He's resting. Needs his sleep."

"All right. This way then." She led the way to one of the nearby rooms, closing the door behind them. "Please, take a seat."

He nodded, moving to one of the rolling chairs, settling carefully in it, his bare feet resting on the metal leg. "So, can we just cut to the chase? I watched Colonel Sheppard get tortured because I wouldn't answer some questions. It was horrible, but he's going to be fine. End of story."

Her eyebrows went up as she sat down. "You think it was your fault he was injured?"

"For the whole thing, no. I know that. For part of it, yes."

"Why do you take the blame for part of it?"

"Because all I had to do was answer a few simple questions, but I decided to be difficult. When I wouldn't answer they started beating on Jo—on the Colonel."

"What do you believe he wanted you to do? How did he react when you answered the questions? Colonel Sheppard, I mean."

Rodney shrugged, knowing where she was going with the questions. "A prisoner's job is to stay alive long enough to be rescued. By answering some questions, I was doing that. It wasn't anything classified, anything sensitive. I know better than to give away the secrets of Atlantis."

"But you resisted answering at first. Why was that?"

"What do you want me to say, Kate? It was a horrible experience I don't want to go through again. Will I have nightmares? Yes. Will Sheppard and Lorne heal? Yes. Can we just leave it at that?"

She was quiet, watching him, waiting to see if he had anything to add.

He looked down at his hands still remembering the sounds, the smells, the fear. "I needed time. I had to buy time for my plan to work, for Parrish to contact Atlantis. I was captured before I could finish. I needed to stall for time. I never thought they would take it out on Lorne and Sheppard."

"You think you should have anticipated that reaction?"

"From the screams I'd heard that night, I should have known."

"When you started answering questions, did they stop hurting Colonel Sheppard and Major Lorne?"

Rodney nodded. "Yes, for a time."

"Only for a time?"

"They thought I was lying and then Colonel Sheppard started talking back, trying to draw their attention."

"Was that when he sustained the worst of his injuries?"

"No."

"When did he receive those?"

"After the explosions went off. After they realized I'd lied to them the first time around. Then they wouldn't listen to anything I said."

"But the explosions cleared enough of the interference field to allow the rescue team to find you?"

"I assume so since the teams did come."

"So in the end, your actions led to all four of you being freed."

"And Parrish's actions. He's the one who was able to talk to Atlantis."

"You both did an excellent job. Your actions led to a quick rescue."

"It wasn't quick enough for Sheppard."

"And you think that was your fault?"

Rodney shrugged. "At that point there was nothing I could do."

"Then why do you blame yourself?"

"Who said I was blaming myself?"

"Are you?"

"I just wish it hadn't happened in the first place. Isn't that enough?"

"We all wish it hadn't happened. But you seem to be taking it personally."

"It's not everyday that you get to watch your teammates being tortured. I'm sorry if I was a little overwhelmed."

"That's understandable, and nothing to be sorry about. I'm just concerned that your first statement was about Colonel Sheppard being injured because of you answering or not answering questions."

Rodney sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "In science, there's a direct correlation between cause and effect. Something happens and something else is the result. My not answering the questions Milos posed to me resulted in the injury of both Major Lorne and Colonel Sheppard. Do I feel somewhat responsible? Yes. Do I continue to go over the 'what ifs' in my mind? Yes. But nothing's going to change what happened."

She nodded. "If you had your choice, would you be talking to me about any of this?"

"Honestly?"

"Of course."

He sighed again. "I don't know."

She leaned forward slightly. "If you want my professional opinion, I think you were forced to witness a very horrific thing—people you respect and admire were injured on the whim of a very disturbed individual. It is natural that you'll feel some guilt—over not stopping it, not finding a way to get there sooner, even over not being the one who was injured. The problem is knowing where to draw the line between a necessary part of human nature and a real problem."

"And you think I have this problem?"

"Not necessarily. I think when you want to you're very good at keeping secrets. If you don't want me to know how you feel, I won't. So you're the only one right now who can determine where that line is, and whether you've crossed it or not. If you feel you need someone to talk to, I'm here to listen. Everything we talk about is confidential, so you can let go, if you wish to do so."

"Can I go back to work?"

"I'll talk with Doctor Beckett, since he has to clear you physically as well. But I'd imagine we can clear you for light duty by tomorrow. I think you need the distraction, although I will caution you not to overdue it. It's one thing to use work to help you regain your sense of balance, it's another to try and use it to hide from your emotions."

Rodney rose to his feet. "Who said I was hiding from anything?"

"You tell me. Are you hiding from anything?"

"Me? Lie? You do know me, don't you?"

Her lips twitched slightly. "You've been working on classified projects most of your adult life. While you may not be able to lie, you are able to keep secrets. When it suits you."

"Are we done?"

Sighing, she rose. "Yes, for now. Although my door is always open, if you want to talk, or if you just need to get something off your chest."

"I know. I've been there enough to know."

She smiled again. "And you are always welcome."

Rodney ducked his head, half in discomfort, the rest as a half-nod. All he had to do was get out the door and avoid Kate for the next twenty-four hours and he'd be free of the infirmary. "I'm going to go and check on Lorne and Sheppard."

"All right. I'll see you again soon, I hope." She stood aside to let him pass out of the door.

He padded across the infirmary in his bare feet, barely noticing how cold the floor was. When he reached John's room, he settled down in his chair, his hand immediately latching on to John's arm. He let out a long sigh, glad that his meeting with Kate was over and Sheppard was still asleep.

Shrinks were one of the few people he had far too much experience manipulating. She'd helped him with the claustrophobia thing—thankfully—but this was different. He knew he was responsible and there was nothing that would change his mind.

***

John stared at the ceiling, counting down the minutes until his next dose of painkillers. It had been a week since they got back from the planet. Three days since Beckett had taken him off the good drugs. Two days since he had moved John and Lorne into the same room, ostensibly to keep one another company. Four hours, thirty seven minutes and 12…13…14 seconds since Rodney had visited.

Twelve hours and approximately 18 minutes, give or take, until Beckett was going to move him down to the other Ancient infirmary to try and set some of the breaks. Oh, that was going to be fun.

"You're thinking again, sir."

"I can't move without excruciating pain, and Beckett is a bastard who won't give me anything else. I don't have anything to do except think."

"You wanted off the good drugs. I distinctly remember you complaining that you felt weird. Floaty, I think you said." Lorne turned his head, offering John a sympathetic smile.

"I was wrong. So very, very wrong. Floaty is way better than this."

"Want me to get Beckett?"

John sighed. "No. He won't give me anything, and I can't escape from Heightmeyer. I'll survive until the next dose. Two hours, thirteen minutes, seventeen seconds."

"SOP, sir. You know that."

"No offense, Lorne, but I think I hate you right now. Just a little."

"You're allowed to. It's not my fault Beckett's cutting me loose tomorrow."

Closing his eyes, John tried hard not to resent that. It was why he had made himself such a target after all. "You'll smuggle me in the good coffee, right?"

"You want me to risk life and limb to get you coffee? Beckett would kill me."

"Just a little cup."

"Have you seen the needles he wields?" Lorne asked just as Carson wandered into the room.

"Talking about me again are ye?"

"Traitor." John was actually thirsty, and it grated that he couldn't even take a sip of water by himself. Meals were miserable affairs, requiring someone to hand feed him—he wasn't going to ask for it any more than he had to.

Carson moved right to John's side, fussing with the monitors. "How are you doing, Colonel? Need water? A snack?"

John sighed, giving up. The only one he was going to hurt by being mullish was himself. "Thirsty. And in pain. But I know... Two hours and counting until the next dose, so I won't ask."

"Meds aren't helping enough?" he asked, already pouring a glass of water and getting a straw.

"Everything hurts. If my pride hadn't already suffered enough, I'd be begging for some relief." He accepted the straw, closing his eyes as he drained the glass.

"I can step up your dose a wee bit and see if that helps."

John nodded, opening his eyes. He didn't know what Carson saw, but the man's face softened.

"It shouldn't make you groggy and we'll work on your right hand first to give you a little more self-sufficiency. Okay?"

"Thank you." He whispered it, almost melting back into the mattress as cool relief flooded through him as the new drugs hit his system. After a minute, he opened his eyes again, managing a smile. "Gonna fix my fingers and wrist at the same time?"

Carson patted his shoulder. "I figure one limb at a time. We'll start with the right wrist and finger since you're right-handed. You may need a little PT, but hopefully it won't be too bad."

"How long until I'm completely fixed?" He flexed his hand without thinking, sucking in a sharp breath as it jostled the broken bones.

"I’m not sure. A lot of it depends on you and your ability to heal. You were pretty quick on the recovery with your ribs, so I'll say a week to ten days."

He nodded again. "How long until I'm allowed to have more than water and bland food?"

Carson shrugged. "Depending on how you're doing tonight, maybe in the morning we can try a wee something different."

"Coffee? Chocolate? Those French fry things with the spicy seasonings?" He blushed a little. He was craving those fries.

"How about some fruit? Toast with jam?"

He sighed. "Major, if I ordered you to bring me something spicy, what would be the odds of you actually doing it?"

"Not likely, sir. Sorry."

"You're becoming a huge disappointment to me. What good are you if you won't smuggle me in food?"

"Evan understands who holds the key to his freedom," Carson said with a chuckle as he walked around to Lorne, nodding at the readings on the monitors.

"I think the problem is that I'm not intimidating enough. No one believes me when I threaten to do nefarious things if they don't obey." John turned his head to watch Carson flutter over Lorne.

Beckett turned, raising an eyebrow, the gesture saying more than enough.

"What? I could be intimidating if I put my mind to it."

"I'll ask Rodney the next time I see him."

John humphed, much to the amusement of both Carson and Evan. "No coffee, no chocolate, no fries, no respect... I'm not really feeling the love here guys."

Carson chuckled as he turned to the door. "I'll be back in a little while to get your down to the secondary infirmary."

"Bring fries!" He called out before relaxing back into the bed. Lorne was silent for a few minutes, before catching John's attention again.

"McKay was pretty impressive back on the planet," he said quietly.

John blinked, craning his head around to see his second-in-command more closely. "I've lost a few good chunks of what happened, and he's avoided telling me about it."

"None of it was pretty, but it was his plan that got us out of there."

John smiled. "He likes to proclaim loud and long that he's a coward, but he's never backed out of a mission, and he's never failed to come through for me when I needed him to."

Lorne was quiet for a moment. "Just seems so unlikely."

"Why?" He knew Lorne had been against civilians on the teams, and had a problem with Rodney in particular. He wondered if both those opinions had changed now.

"I knew his reputation at the SGC. It wasn't exactly…sterling."

Staring at the ceiling, John pulled his thoughts together. "Neither was mine, when you come right down to it. I don't think anyone had ever really given Rodney a chance, before Atlantis. He spent most of his life either being hated or envied for his intelligence. It would be hard not to be an ass under those conditions. Its one of the few means of self-defense that doesn't involve locking yourself away in a tower somewhere."

Lorne shrugged. "I was just surprised at how well he did out there. How well both him and Parrish did. I just didn't expect it given both of their personalities."

Grinning, John glanced over. "From what I can piece together, Parrish was a regular Leatherstocking. Flitting through the shadows and keeping them both hidden for hours. McKay wasn't caught until after they separated, and he had two of those jamming stations sabotaged. And Parrish actually ran through two patrols of guards to get to the jumper when it landed, amazingly unscathed, to direct them to the village."

"Like I said, surprised the hell out of me."

"That's the problem with geeks. It's easy to underestimate them. They bitch and whine and wander off at inappropriate times, but when push comes to shove, they always seem to be the ones who save the day. Damned if I know how they do it."

Lorne shook his head. "I don't know."

He took pity on the man. "I know they're a bit harder to control than Marines—Sit! Stay! doesn't go over so well. But trust me, they're worth the effort. If you take the time to train Parrish how to defend himself, and when it's okay to ignore you and when its not, you'll be surprised at how good of a teammate he is. He already has useful abilities. You just have to work on the discipline part."

Lorne snorted. "Yeah, like that will work. And speaking of scientists, where's McKay been today. I haven't seen him."

The drugs dulled his reaction times just a bit, so he wasn't sure he managed to conceal his hurt over Rodney disappearing today before Lorne could catch it. "No idea. Said something about a big project last time I saw him. Not like I can track him down. And Beckett won't let me have a radio."

"He's been busy, but then so has Parrish. It's like the entire science department is hip-deep in some kind of insane project."

"Huh. So Parrish has been MIA too, huh?" And wasn't that interesting, now that he thought about it. John hadn't seen Parrish at all either. And John had gotten used to him lurking. "But I find its better not to ask, unless they come looking for you to turn something on. Then the only safe question is 'will this blow me up?'"

Lorne shook his head. "And that thought scares me."

"Hey, sometimes you find some neat shit. I've gotten quite a few, ah, interesting toys that way. If you're fast, you can pocket the good stuff and be out of the labs before the geek in question realizes the toy is gone."

"Toys? Do I want to know?"

"Depends on how kinky you are, Evan." John smirked.

"And I am not having this conversation with my commanding officer." Lorne's voice had a funny tone to it—constipated almost covered it.

John laughed, careful not to jostle himself too much. "Maybe I'll arrange for the next fun toy to fall into your lap. You need to loosen up a bit."

"I think you're getting a little stoned again, sir."

"Probably. It doesn't hurt as much. I seem to have two settings right now Evan—cranky and in pain, or stoned off my ass. And I want Jell-O."

"Stoned it is," Lorne chuckled. "I can try to get you some if you really want it."

He sighed. "You would have to feed it to me, and that sounds messy. I'm only a fan of sponge baths if the right person is giving them."

"If you don't mind, I don't mind," Evan said, pressing the call button on his bed. "And I’m not talking about the sponge bath. I'll let you wait for the person who has the matching ring."

John felt himself blush bright red. "Noticed that, did you?"

"Not exactly standard issue," Lorne commented as the nurse walked into the room. "Can you get some Jell-O for the Colonel?" She nodded and headed back out the door.

John had a feeling his XO had made a few educated guesses. "And you don't have a problem with it?"

"Why should it matter?"

"I guess it doesn't in the grand scheme of things. But I like you—you're a good soldier and you have a good sense of humor. I don't have many friends, Lorne. I'd like to think in time you could be another one." He felt himself flush again a heartbeat later. Oh he was so totally stoned if he was admitting shit like that.

"I like you, too, sir…in a friend, commanding officer sort of way."

"Enough to feed me Jell-O?" John grinned, probably goofily if Evan's expression was anything to go by.

"I already told you I would," Lorne said as someone stepped into the room.

"You would do what?" Rodney's annoyed tone was hard to miss.

"Rodney! I'm stoned again, and Lorne is going to feed me Jell-O. He refuses to take responsibility for the mess it will cause though. Whatcha been up to?" John's smile turned genuine.

"Why is it that every time I come to visit you're stoned out of your mind?" Rodney asked, grabbing the bowl from the nurse as she stepped into the room. "Yes, thank you. Go away now."

"Because I'm cute when I beg and Beckett can't resist me?" John fluttered his eyelashes, forgetting they weren't alone at the moment.

Rodney paused for a moment, stilling completely. He put the Jell-O on the side table, the glass clinking. "I'll leave you and Lorne to your little bonding moment. I'll come back later after Carson finishes with your…thing."

"Rodney...? Don't go." He tried to reach out, forgetting about his wrists—Beckett had finally strapped them down after John kept trying to move his arms—making a small noise when he couldn't.

"Doc, stay. He's been asking for you," Lorne said, sitting up in his bed.

"Mmm hmmm. I'm driving Lorne crazy. You should stay and distract me. You're better at feeding me Jell-O. You won't get me as messy."

"I don't have a lot of time. I'm trying to make sure the sorry excuses of a science staff doesn't bow up the city," Rodney said, but he hadn't moved away.

"Tell me about the big project. While you feed me. Jelllllooooooo."

The scientist sighed, but moved to the side of the bed. "The project is long and complicated and I’m trying not to think about it, so let's skip the explanation. It's brilliant and may win me the Nobel Prize one day when my research is de-classified, so let's leave it at that."

"Cool. Can I come when you win? I wanna watch you smirk at everyone." John opened his mouth for a spoon full of Jell-O, moaning around it. God, that was good. Being stoned made everything taste like the best meal in your whole life.

Rodney flushed slightly, but fed him another spoonful. "I'll think about it. So, when is Carson going to free you, Lorne?"

Evan was watching, with a strange smile on his face. "Soon. In the next day or so, probably. He already used the Ancient machine on my ribs, so it's just been my back he's been keeping an eye on, and some bruising. I'll be out of here and trying to avoid direct orders to smuggle in French fries soon."

John talked around another mouthful of Jell-O. “No jus any Fench fries. Picyones.”

"Uh huh, Sheppard. Whatever you say," Rodney commented, shoving another spoonful of Jell-O in John's mouth. "Good to know you won't be cluttering up Carson's infirmary anymore."

Evan's smile turned into a real grin, and John attempted to glare at him, but got a smirk for the effort. "Yeah, I think he wants me gone so Colonel Sheppard will stop trying to corrupt me."

"Good luck there, Major." Scraping the bottom of the small bowl, Rodney fed John the last bit of his snack. "Better?"

"Mmmmm." John closed his eyes and leaned towards Rodney as much as the restraints would allow. "S'good. Thanks."

"Welcome. I should get back to work."

John made a disappointed sound. "M'bored. You're more interesting than anything else here. No offense, Lorne. But you don't have the good toys. Or minions. I like minion stories."

"None taken, sir. And McKay, if you see Parrish can you send him over? I wanted to talk to him."

Rodney nodded. "I'll probably see him later."

"You and Parrish should come tonight. After dinner. Bring DVDs. I'll have a whole wrist by then, so I can even throw popcorn at you." John just wanted an excuse to be near Rodney. It was killing him, not being able to touch.

"Actually, Major Lorne will be headed home tonight," Carson said as he stepped into the room, giving Evan a broad grin. "Your test results look good, so I can send you home with orders to rest."

"I think we should have celebratory French fries." John tried for innocent.

"The Major could have some," Carson said, turning an apologetic expression to John. "Sorry, Colonel. You're going to loose your roommate."

"S'okay. He can go whip the Marines back in shape for me. And catch up on the paperwork. I hate that part."

"He's off-duty for a while yet," Carson said. "But I’m sure he'll get to your paperwork before you."

"Sweet. He writes better reports anyway."

"And if the Major is ready to go, I have his paperwork all signed. I can have a nurse bring you down to your quarters."

Lorne was swinging out of bed in a heartbeat. "Oh, yeah. I'm so ready to get a good night's sleep. The Colonel makes weird noises at night."

"If you can manage to walk to the hall, Sara has a wheelchair ready for you," Carson said, moving to Lorne's side.

John watched them go, bemused, listening to their voices fade as Carson gave Lorne instructions. He turned back to Rodney. "Kiss me? Please? While we have a few seconds alone?"

Rodney glanced toward the door that Carson had pulled shut behind him. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. You've barely touched me at all. Please, Rodney. I need you, God, I need you so much and I can't even move my fucking arms to reach for you... Come kiss me. Let me taste you."

"You have more broken bones than you have complete ones and you're high as a kite," Rodney protested, only to break off when John interrupted.

"Neither of which affects my lips. Kiss me. Please. Don't make me beg."

Rodney closed his eyes for a moment before stepping close, lowering the side rail after un-strapping John's arm. He carefully moved the limb as he sat on the edge of the bed, placing his hands carefully on either side of John's body before he leaned down, kissing John carefully, without any real pressure.

John moaned softly, arching up a little to try and deepen the contact.

Rodney backed off. "John, please…you need to be careful."

"Taste so good..."

Rodney's arms were shaking as he hovered over John. "I’m so sorry." He leaned down again, giving John another kiss, this one deeper, but just as careful.

John opened his mouth and just tasted. He wanted Rodney so much, wanted to spend the day in bed with him, but for now, this was all they could have. When Rodney pulled away, he whined softly. "Why are you scared to touch me? Want to feel your hands on my body, making me feel so good, forget the pain."

"When you're better."

"I'll be sorta better tonight. Come let me touch you? Even just your face. I miss the way your skin feels under my fingers."

"You're probably going to be out of it after the treatment," Rodney started, but John interrupted him again.

"Come back here afterwards. Bring a DVD and come be with me. I need you here, even for just a little while. I remember the damn machine hurts like a bitch, and I want to be needy and pathetic and pampered. Please."

Rodney nodded after a minute. "I'll try."

John finally nodded, relaxing back into the bed again. "Okay. Thank you."

Rodney pressed his lips to John's again, the kiss light. "I have to go back to the labs."

"Tell them I said hi. And tell Parrish to go check on Lorne. He was missing his geek."

"I will," Rodney said, nodding. A few seconds later and he was gone, moving out into the hallway leaving John alone.

Hey, Rodney hadn't reattached his arm. More out of boredom than anything else, John picked it up and moved it around, reveling in the freedom of movement.

"And how did you get free?" Carson asked, startling John. "And I thought Rodney was in here watching you."

"He unhooked my arm so he could kiss me. I begged. What's up with him? He keeps looking at me like he's afraid I'll break." John swung his arm around, pouting when Carson caught it.

"You don't feel it now, but you were injured very badly, John, and he watched most of it happen. He has the right to be worried and tentative." Carson gently laid his arm on John's stomach. "So are you ready to get one of these casts off?"

John sighed, nodding. "I know. But I'm not that fragile. Its like he doesn't even want to touch me."

"That you have to take up with him."

"I know. And I can't do that when I'm strapped to a bed and either in pain or drugged out of my mind. Fix me up, Doc, so I can fix Rodney."

"You will be staying here until you are in one piece again," Carson said, already moving to release John's limbs. "Do you understand?"

"Mmmmm." John figured vague reassurances would work. As soon as he was actually let out of restraints and healed enough to be mobile, however...

"I can keep you strapped to the bed," Carson said. "I know it's usually the other way around for you and Rodney, but don't think I won't do it to you."

"You already have me strapped to the bed."

"And I have no qualms about keeping you strapped to the bed even when you're on the road to recovery. Understood?"

"Hey!" John tried to sit up, but was held down by a firm Scot. "You wouldn't do that! You know how much I hate not being able to move. It's driving me nuts."

"John," Carson growled, holding him down firmly. "I’m trying to spare you six to ten weeks of time waiting for your bones to heal and then another six to ten week of physical therapy."

He shuddered at the thought of that much down time. "I'll be good."

"I know how much you hate to be in here and I won't keep you any longer than I have to, but you have to trust me."

"I know. I just..." He sighed. "I'm really looking forward to having some freedom again. Can we fix my hand now? Please? So I can eat dinner on my own tonight without having to be fed like a two-year-old?"

"Let me get an orderly to get you transferred to the gurney and we can head on down. I'll be right back."

Sighing again, John leaned back to wait. God, he hated waiting.

The next few hours were a blur. They moved him down to the other lab and got him in the machine. He screamed as the pain shot through his wrist as the bones knitted back together, passing out, he assumed, since the next thing he knew he was back in the infirmary again, by the sounds around him. "C'son? R'dney? Anyone?" It was a whisper, and he didn't want to open his eyes yet.

"I’m here, John."

"Mmmm?" He carefully wiggled his fingers—his legs and other arm were strapped back down again to prevent him from using them.

"Does it hurt?" Rodney's voice was quiet, the words whispered.

"Not sure yet. Don't think so." He cracked an eye, holding his newly fixed hand in Rodney's direction.

He caught it lightly, pressing a kiss to the back of John's hand before pressing it to his cheek.

Purring, John turned it to cup Rodney's face, dragging his thumb through the scratchy stubble. "Hey."

"Hey," Rodney echoed, letting out a breath. "It's pretty late. Wasn't sure you were going to wake up tonight."

"I don't remember much of the afternoon. M'glad you're here. I don't think I'm on as many drugs, but the pain isn't too bad right now. I can touch you again."

"I don't know. I don't know what you were on before and what he's giving you now," Rodney said quietly.

"I don't feel high. Not like earlier." John continued to stroke Rodney's jaw, mesmerized at how good it felt. He could feel his dick taking a definite interest. "I want you."

"When you're better, John."

"Getting hard. I miss fucking you. Want to be buried so deep inside you we're both sobbing for release."

"I miss you, too," Rodney said, leaning into John's hand. "We need to wait."

John sighed. "I know. Carson would kill me if I tried anything athletic. But you could...you could use your mouth. Just a little. I can't take you like I usually do, but you have an amazing mouth..."

"Are you…are you sure?"

"Yes. God yes."

Rodney turned his head, kissing the inside of John's palm before he moved down the bed. It was a little awkward, but Rodney managed to get into a somewhat comfortable position. "No tubing," Rodney said when he finally tugged John's cock free of the scrubs.

"Carson must have pulled it out after he fixed my hand. He knows I hate the catheters if I can avoid them."

"Don't we all?" Rodney breathed over John's cock for a moment before swallowing him down.

John arched a little into it, gasping, not able to go far because of the remaining restraints. He let his head fall back against the bed, snaking his hand under his shirt to fondle a nipple. "Rodney.... Oh Rodney...."

He pulled off, running a hand on John's thigh. "Please, John. There are people in the infirmary and this room isn't exactly sound-proof."

Still gasping, John nodded. Anything to get that mouth back where it belonged. He released his nipple and shoved his fist in his mouth instead.

Rodney was silent for a moment and then John was surrounded once again by the wet heat of his lover's mouth. He worked John quickly, bringing him to the edge and over within a few minutes.

Panting John came back down slowly. When he could breathe again, he reached down, tugging Rodney up for a sloppy kiss. "Thanks. Needed that. I'll do you soon. When I'm free again. Make you mine again."

"I can wait," Rodney whispered, his words ghosting over John's skin.

"Miss you. Missed being able to touch you. I miss holding you, falling asleep with you."

"Me, too."

"Soon. Carson will fix me right up, and then we'll celebrate." John felt himself getting heavy again, his limbs languid and relaxed.

"Sleep, John. I'll stay with you until you do."

"'Kay. Love you." He let his eyes drift shut, smiling as Rodney's fingers laced through his.

John felt the light touch of Rodney's lips against his forehead, the feeling staying with him as he tumbled headlong into sleep.

***

It was strange. It was almost like they were expecting Rodney to blow up at any minute, that he was some ticking time bomb just waiting to be triggered by the smallest thing. He didn't even have to yell, merely glare at one of his staff members, and they were running for the depths of the science department.

Carson swung by when he could, when Sheppard wasn't hounding him for French fries or coffee or some other inane request. Although the GameBoy and iPod Rodney had left the other morning had resulted in a bag of really good coffee showing up in his room that same night.

Teyla, though, was hovering more than normal, looking at him with her head tilted to the side, her eyes intently staring at him. Frankly, it was unnerving and he'd told her as much when he caught her staring at him late one evening just before he went to visit Sheppard in the infirmary.

The treatments were going well, but they left John drained. So instead of having one every other day, Carson had to space them out: one every three or four, depending on how bad the break had been and how much damage it was repairing. Thankfully, his back was more or less healed and he finally had use of both of his hands. John was going to have to go for a little PT just to make sure he had the full range of motion, but Carson had been very optimistic.

Tomorrow was an ankle and if things went well, John would be allowed in a wheelchair for his first tour of the city in nearly two weeks.

Two very long weeks.

Rodney sighed, glancing up when he felt the weight of someone's gaze. "What do you want?"

"Sheppard sent me." Ronon Dex was just looking at him.

"And?"

"Told me to make you eat."

"I ate," Rodney said with a scowl, his hand gesturing to the pile of dishes sitting off to the side. Granted that had been lunch a few hours ago, but it was still a meal. He'd grab something later after he saw John.

"He said you'd say that." Dex moved closer, looming. "Told me not to take no for an answer."

Rodney set his jaw, his hand on his hips at he stared upward. "If you hadn't already noticed, I'm a very important and busy man and I don't have the time or the patience to deal with you and a remote mother hen that looks suspiciously like a bored Colonel. Why don't you go keep him company? I have work to do."

Dex just loomed closer.

Pacing back a step, Rodney felt himself get flustered. He didn't know how to take his big, great hulking walking muscle. "What do you want?"

"Already told you."

"And I'm already explained that I'm busy. Go loom over someone else."

"Wasn't ordered to make anyone else eat."

"And yet, clearly, I've eaten. I don't need you or Sheppard to remind me."

Dex shrugged. "Not my problem."

Rodney looked at him for a long moment before turning back to his laptop. He had some calculations he needed to finish before he turned this over to Radek.

He could feel Ronon standing right behind him now, looking over his shoulder.

Rodney paused, sighing long and loud. "Do you mind? Some of us are trying to work."

"After you eat."

Rodney threw up his hands. "I ate already!"

"When?"

"Before."

"Then you can eat again now."

"I'm not hungry because I already ate."

"Don't care."

"The only way you are going to get me to go down to the mess is to pick me up and carry me because I have no intention of going anywhere until after I finish what I'm working on."

Dex shrugged. "Suit yourself." The huge man grabbed him around the middle before he could react and slung him over a shoulder like a rag doll, heading for the door.

"What the—" Rodney couldn't believe this brute of a man was carrying him out of the labs. "Put me down! Do you hear me? Put me the hell down! This isn't funny!" He kicked and flailed his arms, but Ronon the Barbarian just held on tighter.

Dex didn't answer, just carried him to the mess hall, getting a lot of wide-eyed, shocked looks along the way. Rodney found himself dumped into a chair once they arrived.

Rodney was beyond angry. He was mortified and seething. John had no right—no right at all—to do this to him. He rose onto shaking legs as soon as he could, feeling the heat rise in his face as he sputtered. "How dare you manhandle me! You might have done that on your world, but you have no right to do that to anyone in this city. Who do you think you are? We were nice enough to let you stay and take out the Wraith tracking device so you didn't have to run anymore, but on second thought I'm thinking we should have left it in and kicked you back to the wolves." He took a breath, not caring that he was doing this in public that a good portion of the Atlantis staff was staring at him and Ronon. "Don't you ever touch me or come near me again. Do you understand?"

Rodney didn't get a response, but he didn't care as he stalked out of the mess, blood pounding in his head.

Ronon was right behind him. "You still haven't eaten."

"Get the fuck away from me."

"Will after you eat."

Rodney didn't pause, stepping into the nearest transporter and hitting the screen to take him to the infirmary, Ronon at his side.

He stormed into the infirmary, nurses scattering as soon as they saw his face. He rounded the corner to the private room and shoved his way into John's room, his finger already pointing, words already spilling from his mouth. "I don't know what kind of delusions you're experiencing, but you have no right to send this barbarian into my labs to manhandle me into doing something just for your own kicks. You need to grow up and find yourself some other pet scientist because I'm done. I don't want to see him ever again. I don't want him on our team or anywhere around me again. Am I clear?"

John blinked. "Um, hi?"

"Am I clear? Do you understand the words coming out of my mouth or do I need to speak slower and use small words that grunts like you can understand?" Rodney slowed down, enunciating every word. "I don't want to see him ever again anywhere near me. I don't want him to touch me, look at me, or even breathe the same air. Do you understand?"

John's eyes had gone wide. "O…kay? Someone want to tell me what's going on? Because I think I'm missing something here."

"You know exactly what's going on and you have no right—no right at all—to have someone do that do me." Rodney took a breath, his entire body shaking with anger. "Keep him away from me," he finally said, already turning on his heel to head back out of the infirmary. Several nurses and doctors were all staring at him, but he didn't care. He was done.

"Rodney! Fuck, come back!" John was calling after him. "Ronon, what the hell did you do?"

Rodney didn't stop, too wound up and angry to care. He ended up back in his lab, the ire slowly bleeding out of him as he sat down, holding his head in his hands.

"Rodney?" Carson Beckett popped his head in the lab, but he didn't try to approach. "I heard about what happened, and John is...well let's just say he had a stern talking-to with Ronon about what is and isn't appropriate behavior. John just wanted to make sure you ate, he never meant for that to happen. I had to sedate him to keep him from getting out of bed to come after you."

"Serves the fucker right."

"He had no idea Ronon would take that drastic a course of action. He was just worried about you." Carson moved just inside the lab, letting the door close behind him.

Rodney shook his head, refusing to look up. "He had no right to do that. Just because he's bored doesn't mean he can send that…barbarian to cart me off to the mess."

"That isna why he did it. He just knows how involved you've been in your current project, and he didna want you to live on PowerBars. He had worked himself up into a fine rant at Mister Dex before I held him down long enough to sedate him. You know he wouldn't deliberately have ordered Ronon to do that. Ronon just...did'na understand that was'na appropriate."

Rodney picked up his head, glaring at Carson. "Does it look like I care right now?"

Carson sighed. "I know you're angry, and I'll leave you to it. I just wanted to check on you, and make sure you knew John was just as upset."

"Let me repeat myself because it seems like a lot of people are hard of hearing. I. Don't. Care."

Carson nodded, looking tired. He started to say something else, then paused, hitting his radio. "Beckett here... Bloody hell. I'll be right there. Hold him down, if he gets out of bed, he could permanently damage his ankles. Beckett out." He glanced at Rodney before he rushed out the door. "John is fighting the drugs I gave him and is trying to get out of bed to come after you. I have to go restrain him. I'll come check on you later." He let the door swish shut again behind him.

Rodney just let himself collapse in his chair, too tired and angry to care. It took a few minutes before he got the energy to move again, getting up and going to the nearby cabinet and pulling out an MRE he had stashed there. He'd eat it in a little while once his stomach was no longer in knots. After that entire…production, he knew his blood sugar had dropped and he was going to have to eat something sooner rather than later.

He wasn't surprised when the door to his lab slid open nearly thirty minutes later and Elizabeth walked in, her face set in a neutral expression, her arms crossed over her chest.

"How are you doing?" She sat on one of the stools nearby.

"I’m trying to work."

She nodded. "You have every right to be angry, and Ronon will apologize when you're ready to see him again. He had no right to do that and I think he understands that now."

"I’m not ready. Won't be for some time."

"That's up to you. Carson asked me to come check on you, since he's busy with John. The less powerful drugs aren't working on him, and Carson is afraid to give him something stronger. They're having to work to keep him from hurting himself."

"That's nice," Rodney said absently, adjusting an equation. "Ask me if I care right now."

Her voice was soft. "It wasn't John's fault, Rodney. He didn't know Ronon would do that. I understand you're angry, but don't make him suffer for something he didn't do."

"Not talking about this right now."

He heard her rise. "Just don't wait too long." He heard the door shut behind her as she walked out.

Rodney worked a little longer before finally heating up his dinner, eating bites of it in between reading reports. It was late by the time he finished, but he had also finally calmed down, his anger giving way to exhaustion. He didn't particularly want to talk to John tonight, but he also knew that not going would be petty on his part. Going to visit didn't mean he wasn't angry about the whole situation, however.

When he arrived, he noted that the entire section of the infirmary had been cleared. John's bed was the only thing in the area, and he was strapped down securely. From the door, John couldn't see him, but he watched Sheppard occasionally pull on the restraints, growling softly every time they held.

He must have heard Rodney shift—his voice was rough, hoarse. "If you aren't coming in here to let me the hell out, Beckett, I don't want to talk to you."

"Should I go then?"

"Rodney! Oh god oh god please I'm sorry I didn't know he would do that...please..." John started to fight the restraints, trying to get free and sit up.

"Just stop." Rodney voice was flat as he moved closer.

John stilled, but he was shaking. "I'm sorry..."

"Can we just not talk about it? I'm exhausted and wanted to see you before I went to bed."

Nodding, John was watching him with wide eyes, smudged with deep circles underneath. Sheppard must have fought Beckett hard—as Rodney got closer, he saw there were several sets of restraints, allowing John almost no movement at all.

Rodney sighed, his hands already working at loosening the restraints. He worked silently, shaking his head, feeling John's eyes on him the entire time. He was just too tired to deal with this kind of crap.

As soon as his upper body was free, John sat up, reaching for Rodney, pulling him close. John was shaking, holding on even when Rodney resisted slightly, and burying his head in the crook of Rodney's neck.

"If you give me a minute I'll get the rest of them off."

"Don't care. Just wanted to get to you."

"I’m trying to make you comfortable, you idiot."

John drew in a shaky breath, but loosened his grasp. "Thought I had lost you."

Rodney disentangled himself and moved to the foot of the bed, pulling the final sets of restraints free before he moved back to sit on the edge of the bed near John's hip. "We're not talking about this right now."

"Okay."

Taking a breath, Rodney nodded—more to himself than to John—before reaching out to him, his lover grabbing him as soon as his hand moved toward him.

John traced patterns on the back of his hand, while the other gripped tightly. "So... Beckett postponed my ankle until tomorrow, assuming I'm not rabid again. I might actually get to see something other than the infirmary."

"Postponed? I thought the ankle treatment was already scheduled for tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow afternoon now. I guess he has to make sure I didn't re-injure anything he already fixed first."

"Oh." Rodney sighed, feeling his body start to release some of the tension that had accumulated. He leaned forward a little more and John took that as an invitation to wrap his arms around him, pulling Rodney in close.

John's lips were warm against his skin, pressing into the side of his head. "When I'm finally released, we'll take a jumper and go out to the mainland. Bring a picnic lunch. Spend the day with nothing but sun and surf and sex."

"We'll see," was all Rodney said as he returned John's embrace, relaxing into it.

"I keep dreaming about you. About holding you, touching you. Losing myself in you." John was whispering now, his lips brushing against Rodney as he spoke.

Rodney heard a footfall just outside the door to John's room a moment before it opened to reveal Carson.

John didn't let go, but he did tilt his head to see, and Rodney caught the edge of a sheepish look. "Hi. Um, sorry about earlier, for, you know, calling you an evil tyrant and threatening to kick your sheep."

"I’m guessing Rodney let you up," Carson said, stepping in and closing the door behind him.

"Yeah." John's arms tightened around Rodney slightly. "I'm not on a rampage anymore. No threat here."

"Sorry, Carson. Do I need to put them back?" Rodney asked, half teasing John.

He felt John's tremors. "I'll be good. I swear. So good..."

"No. As long as the Colonel agrees to behave himself," Carson said stepping next to the bed, his eyes on John. "I do need to give you a quick check, though."

"I'll behave." John squeezed Rodney again, then reluctantly sat back, giving Carson access. "I can still have my ankle fixed tomorrow right? And then maybe a field trip to see something besides the two infirmary wards?"

"Let's wait and see how you're doing," Carson said noncommittally, running through a few quick checks. He was done in a few minutes, nodding to himself before he turned to Rodney. "I want to check your pressure."

John sighed, but squeezed Rodney's hand, which he hadn't let go of. "What's wrong with Rodney's pressure?"

"From all accounts, his pressure was sky high this afternoon and I want to do a quick check," Carson said, pulling a blood pressure cuff from his pocket.

"I'm fine, Carson," Rodney protested with a scowl.

John's thumb swirled across the back of his hand. "Let him check? It won't take long, and then he won't badger you."

Rodney rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine."

Carson strapped the cuff on, quickly taking the readings. "It's a bit high, but not cause for concern yet. You've had higher readings, but this is borderline. If you canna relax in the next few days and bring it down, I'll give you something for it."

"Oh, I wonder why it might be high," Rodney snapped, his words without some of their earlier heat.

"Because I'm an ass." John's reply was quick, accompanied by another hand squeeze.

"Yes," Rodney said, finally looking at John. "Yes, you are."

"But you love me anyway."

"Maybe."

John opened his eyes wide, tilting his head and letting his face take on what Rodney had made the mistake of once telling him was the 'adorable puppy look'. "Only maybe?"

"After today, maybe is all you're getting."

Something that looked like fear flashed across John's face, but was gone again quickly. "Oh. I'll take that then. Better than a no."

"Good thinking, flyboy."

"Mmmm. But I'm _your_ flyboy."

Carson chuckled, patting Rodney's leg. "Don't keep him up too long, Rodney. He needs his sleep."

"Hey! He's right here you know. And he's not two."

"Coulda fooled me," Carson commented, already moving to the door.

John just snorted. Once Beckett was gone, however, his expression softened, and he held his arms out for Rodney again.

"I should probably let you sleep," Rodney said, moving to get up.

"No! Not yet! Soon. Just...let me hold you again for a minute. I know I need it, and I think you do, too."

Rodney sighed, settling back down, but John shook his head, gesturing for Rodney to swing his feet up on the bed.

"C'mere."

"We're not going to fit and you're still—"

"Rodney." John's voice took on a note of command he hadn't used in a few weeks.

He closed his eyes for a brief minute and nodded. John shifted a little, enough to allow Rodney to lay down on the bed on his side. As soon as he was within reach, John wrapped his arms around Rodney and tugged him close.

They ended up carefully wrapped around each other. John had to be careful with his ankles, but he relaxed as soon as Rodney was pressed against him. "Mmmm. Good."

Even tangled like this, so careful not to jostle the injured man, Rodney finally felt a little piece of himself let go, a tiny section of tension and guilt bubbling to the surface.

"Shhhh, it's okay. I'm here. Just let go, let me take care of you." It took a little while to register that John was talking quietly, rubbing his back as he held him close.

It took just as long to notice the shoulder of John's scrubs were damp. "Sorry, sorry," Rodney said, trying to struggle upright, but John wouldn't let him.

"Shhh, just relax. I'm not going anywhere, and you have nothing to be sorry about." John nuzzled the top of his head, breathing into Rodney's hair.

Rodney shifted in John's arms, feeling some of his exhaustion washing over him, weighing him down.

"Close your eyes. Try to get some sleep." John's hands were soothing, comforting.

"I just can't stay here," Rodney whispered, but made no move to get up.

"Yes, you can. For a little while at least. Carson will wake us up before the day gets busy tomorrow."

"But—"

"Shhh. Sleep. We both need this too much."

Sometime in the middle of the night, someone must have brought in a blanket, draping it over Rodney without waking him since it was there in the morning. Carson's quiet brogue broke into his slumber, John's chest rumbling under him with his whispered reply.

"Neither of us sleeps well anymore without the other. We both needed this."

"Is he still asleep? His back is going to be a series of aches if that's how he slept all night," Carson said quietly

"He hasn't moved yet." John's touch was light along his back, possessive. "Admittedly we had to adjust because of my damn ankles, but I tried to shift him so his back wouldn't cause problems later."

"I hate to say it, but I don't think it was enough. How long did it take him to drift off last night?"

"He was out pretty fast. He must have been exhausted. I stayed awake until I was sure he was sleeping. He's had a really rough couple of weeks, Carson. Go easy on him."

"I know. You all have. Kate cleared him two weeks ago, but I'm not sure if he's dealt with everything."

"Let him deal with it in his own way. He might still have issues, and once I'm released I'll talk with him. But for now, just go easy on him. In some ways what he experienced was worse than me. I was tortured, yes, but he had to watch. I'd rather be the one in pain any day."

"Aye, I know," Carson said with a sigh. A hand fell on his shoulder and Rodney jumped, not expecting it.

"What did you do that for? He was sleeping." John grumped, but he slid a finger under Rodney's chin, tilting his head up. "Hey, there."

"Hi…and I was up."

John leaned down to brush their lips together. "You were up, huh? Sorry we woke you."

"It's okay. I should go."

John smiled, but didn't let go. "How's your back? There was concern expressed that this position might have hurt you. If it's hurting, Carson can give you something."

"I…heard," Rodney said, feeling his cheeks flush. He really hadn't meant to eavesdrop. Really. "And I’m trying not to think about it."

John's smile got a little wider. "Good, then I won't have to recap the conversation for you later." He looked up at Beckett. "Can you give him something? Even if he doesn't take it now, he'll have it if he needs it later."

"Aye, if he needs something. I don'na want to medicate if I don'na have to."

John was absently stroking his thumb along Rodney's jaw, distracting him. "It's up to you, if you think you need it, Rodney."

He sighed, relaxing into John's touch but also knowing he had to get up and out so John didn't have any issues. "I won't know until I start moving."

"Okay. I guess I should let you get up, huh?" John didn't stop his caresses.

"John, stop distracting him," Carson berated quietly, only to get a chuckle from John.

"Why? A little constructive distraction isn't a bad thing. Now if I was really trying to distract him..." John's thumb moved from Rodney's jaw to his lips running along the seam before pressing just inside, "I'd do something like this."

Rodney moaned a little, his touch-starved body reacting immediately as he let John's thumb slide in, his eyes closing as he shifted against John.

Sheppard set up a slow rhythm, pushing in and out of Rodney's mouth. The rumble of John's chest let him know the other men were still talking, but Rodney had stopped paying attention.

The movements of John's hand slowed, matching the soothing circles pressed into his back.

Eventually, the finger withdrew, rubbing along Rodney's lips. "I hate to do this to you, but I need you to come back up, Rodney." John's voice matched the soothing nature of his touches. "I'll have to take a raincheck on keeping you in subspace for the day."

Rodney turned his head into John's shoulder, breathing in his scent as he tried to bring himself up, surprised at how easily he'd fallen.

John leaned his head in to rest against Rodney's, just holding him. From the sounds around them, Beckett was still in the room, but giving them a moment of semi-privacy to just be together.

Rodney shifted, putting his hand on John's chest, spreading his fingers, opening his eyes so he could look at how pale his hand was against John's scrub-covered chest.

John's hand came up to rest over Rodney's, curling in slightly. "Feeling any better?"

"Still tired."

"I can imagine."

"You did that with Carson standing right next to the bed."

"I did, didn't I?" He didn't have to look up to hear John's smile.

Rodney shook his head. "It'll get us both in trouble one day. You know that, don't you?"

"Don't care. You needed it, and that's more important to me than my career."

"I need the last two and a half weeks to have never happened. That's what I really need," Rodney said with a sigh as he shifted, shoving himself upright. He groaned as the muscles in his back protested.

"I wish I could give that to you, too." John steadied him as he climbed out of the bed, keeping their fingers laced together once he was down. "But the next best thing is to try and help you relax a little."

"Not going to happen anytime soon."

"Well, soonish. I get one ankle fixed today, and the other should be done in a few more days. Maybe by the end of the week I can actually sleep in my own bed..."

"Maybe," Carson piped up from the other side of the room.

John rolled his eyes, but only Rodney saw it. "Maybe I'll be able to sleep in my own bed by the end of the week. After three weeks away from it, I'm looking forward to a little privacy. And a shower. Oh god, a real shower..."

"Let's not rush into anything," Carson said, moving back to the bed and handing Rodney a blister pack of pills. "Take these with your breakfast."

"I'm fine."

John squeezed his hand. "At least you have them if you need them."

"They're a light muscle relaxant. It won't make you woozy or anything," Carson said. "And I want you to take them."

John shot Beckett a look. "He's a big boy. He can make that decision for himself. Granted, we'd both probably be happier if he took them since then we'll know he isn't walking around in pain, but—"

"Fine. I'll take them," Rodney grumbled, shoving the foil package into his pocket. "And I need to go."

John gave him a tug, pulling him in close. His lover's lips were hard, demanding, and the kiss turned deep and dirty for a moment before Rodney was released. "Have a good day. Maybe I can visit you later, if I'm allowed to take a field trip."

"Maybe." Carson had moved back to the other side of the room, but he was still listening.

Rodney nodded, still a little dazed by the kiss. He squeezed John's hand once before heading out, walking to his quarters without real knowledge of how he got there. Shaking his head in an effort to clear it a little, he tugged the pills out of his pocket and dumped it on the desk along with his radio. Shrugging out of yesterday's uniform, he jumped into the shower, washing himself methodically, letting the hot water pound at his back.

Once he was clean and dressed, he headed to the mess, picking up some food and coffee before going to the lab. After yesterday, he had no intention of staying in the mess any longer than absolutely necessary.

***

The rest of that week passed in something of a blur for John. The machine that was fixing his bones apparently had issues with ankles—it was taking twice as long, and John swore it hurt twice as much. Instead of doing each foot entirely, Carson was forced to take it in stages.

He was finally done—hopefully—with the most painful stuff, but Beckett wasn't quite ready to release him. At least he had been allowed out on a carefully controlled and timed wheelchair tour of the base.

He knew Rodney wouldn't be by to see him for a few hours yet, so he was surprised to hear the door open and someone slip in.

"Ready for a guided tour, Colonel?"

"Is it sanctioned, or are you finally caving and helping smuggle me out of here?" John swung his legs around but didn't hop off the bed yet. He had already tried that once, and nearly re-broke the damn ankle when his body started to collapse underneath him.

"I actually have permission to take you on a tour," Lorne said with a smile, looking healthy. He pulled a bundle out from behind his back, tossing the cloth to John. "Thought you might want this."

"BDUs... Lorne, I think I love you." Leaning back on the bed, John shimmied out of the scrub bottoms and pulled the pants on.

"Better not let anyone hear you say that."

"You brought me real pants, I don't really care who hears it." There was a real shirt too, so John sat back up and got rid of the scrub top too, pulling one of his own soft black tee-shirts on over his head.

"I can't offer you boots, but I can give you socks," he said tossing over the balled-up cotton.

"That will work." Pulling them on, John wiggled his toes, grinning. "You have reclaimed your status as most favored second in command."

"You might think twice about that when you see the size of your in-box."

"I haven't been cleared for duty yet. You still have time to clear it out for me." John let the other soldier help him down into a wheelchair.

"Actually, sir, that's what I've been through. It all needs your signature and approval," Lorne said, helping John get his feet into the footrests before he walked around to the back of the chair, gripping the handles. "We have a few hours, so where do you want to go first?"

John didn't hesitate. "Jumper bay."

"Flying is off-limits."

"Spoil-sport. Command tower then."

"I was warned about you is more like it," Lorne said chuckling as he guided John out of the infirmary.

"I'm a grounded pilot, what did you think my first request would be?" John chuckled. "But actually getting out and checking up on my city is the next best thing. Thanks."

"Not a problem. Keeps me away from the paperwork."

"You're learning, young Jedi. Soon you will earn the title of Master."

"How many painkillers does Beckett have you on?" Lorne asked as they waited for the transporter.

"At the moment? Nothing. This is called giddy over my freedom. I've been staring at the same set of walls for three weeks."

Lorne steered him carefully though the hallways, John getting many greetings and smiles from the personnel along the way. By the time they reached the control room, John was a little overwhelmed.

He hadn't realized most people would even realize he was down and out, much less care enough to wish him well. He hoped Lorne didn't notice his hands were shaking slightly when they arrived.

Elizabeth offered a warm smile as Lorne wheeled him into her office, even rising to her feet. "John! It's good to see you out and about. Carson's been keeping me updated on your progress. You're looking good."

He grinned at her. "It's nice to be out. I think Carson authorized this little trip to give himself a little peace and quiet for a bit. How have things been going? I miss anything exciting?"

"It's been quiet," she said, sitting on the edge of her desk. "The new missions have gone smoothly, but they were mostly with people we already knew. No first contacts. The science department has been up to its eyeballs in work since you've all been grounded. I hear Rodney's been working them to the bone on a few projects."

"Yeah, he's been evading my questions when I try to find out what they're up to, and I couldn't exactly just go down and snoop. Hopefully this is a sign my convalescence is near an end, and I can take McKay off-world to burn some energy again soon."

"The science staff would love you forever—or at least until the next crisis," Elizabeth said with a smile and a shrug.

He laughed softly. "One thing at a time. Right now, I'll settle for an actual, honest-to-God shower. And then walking on my own. Then I'll go McKay-wrangling."

"I saw some physical therapy was on your schedule."

He ran a hand through his hair, trying not to let his frustration over his own limits show. "Yeah. The bones are healed, but I guess they're weaker than before the break. And since I haven't walked in a few weeks, my muscles have lost some tone. I'll have to work up to carrying my own weight again. I've already started the PT for my hands, and it's going well."

"Good. Does Carson know how long you're going to need the therapy until you're back to your usual self?"

"He said we'll have to see how it goes. I guess it depends on how hard I push myself and how much my body can take." He shot an impish grin in her direction. "Should we schedule my team for a mission next week?"

"No…" she said with a smile. "Let's just wait until you get the all-clear from Carson."

"Can't blame a guy for trying. Lorne already refused to take me to the Jumper bay."

"Let's give your body a little chance to recover before you start doing all kinds of things to it again. Deal?"

"Flying requires almost no effort on my body's part—at least not with the Jumpers. But I'll behave. For now."

"I sincerely hope so, but we both know Carson has ways to deal with you if you do decide to misbehave. So what's next on your agenda for today?"

He couldn't help the slight shudder, or pulling his arms in a bit, the feeling of phantom restraints still strong. He hated the damn things. "Don't know. Lorne is my chauffeur for the afternoon. I really want to swing by my room for my laptop so I can start catching up on a few things, but he seems to have ideas about what's not allowed yet."

"The laptop you will have to take up with Carson. I know the jumpers are off limits, but the rest of the city is pretty much available."

"Chair room?"

"And long as you're not connecting to the chair, yes."

"Hmph. Would I do that?"

Elizabeth's mouth twitched. "I don't know, would you?"

He gave up and grinned. "Probably. It would be the fastest way to get up to speed on everything that's happened with the city. But I did promise I'd behave. Actually, I think I'll have Lorne take me by the mess. I never did get French fries, damn it, no matter how many times I asked."

"Enjoy your trip. And it's good to see you. You look good." She smiled but her eyes were haunted. "I'll try and stop down tomorrow for a visit."

"I'd like that. Anything else I should know about? Off the record of course, I won't tell Carson." He wondered what was bothering her.

"Nothing, John," she said, rising to her feet as she shook her head. "Just get better."

"I will. Soon." He sighed to himself as Lorne wheeled him out again.

"Where to, sir? Mess? Labs?"

"Mess. Let's see if I can charm a snack out of them for us. Something un-bland."

Lorne chuckled. "It's your stomach, sir."

"There was nothing wrong with my stomach." When they arrived, he was a little overwhelmed again at the rush to help, and the good wishes, and the 'great to see you up and about, sirs'. He used the almost-fries produced from somewhere to cover. "Thanks guys. A lot. It's funny the things you start to crave after a while."

"I understand, Colonel," Lorne said with a smile, sipping on a bottle of water. "I had the oddest craving for Diet Lime Coke." He shrugged.

"We have that here?" John felt his eyes go wide. Of course, now he wanted some.

"No. Not even close."

"Do you do that on purpose? Get my hopes up just to crush them under your boot?"

"At least you're getting fries. I’m still craving the stupid soda."

Laughing, John nodded. "True. Would it be considered un-officerly to say 'nyah nyah'?"

Shaking his head, Lorne laughed along with John. "Doctor Beckett was right about you."

"Dare I ask?" John grinned, since he could make a few guesses as to what Beckett would have said.

"Something about your real age being somewhere between twelve and nineteen—depending on the situation."

John threw his head back and laughed harder at that. "Bastard. I'll have to get him back for that. But at least he isn't calling me a girl—McKay's preferred insult for me is, and I quote, 'a fourteen-year-old girl'. I think I should be insulted, but I'm having more fun than the rest of you. So, nyah nyah."

Lorne simply shook his head and laughed.

"Sheppard, I'd heard that Beckett had let you out for a while."

Rodney.

John held out his small basket of fries. "Want one? I was going to have Lorne bring me by the labs next."

"I can play chauffeur if you want. I have some free time this afternoon while some simulations run," Rodney said instead, glancing between the two men.

John smiled. "Sure. Give poor Lorne a break from hauling my ass around. I'm very pushy, I'm told. And I mock him."

"You're always pushy and you mock everyone. Nothing I haven't heard before," Rodney commented, rolling his eyes. "Were you done eating or did you want to take your snack with you?"

"I can take it with me. I'm savoring." He glanced at Lorne, winking. "Thanks, Major. I really do appreciate it. Same time tomorrow, assuming Beckett gives the okay?"

"I'll see you tomorrow, sir," Lorne said as Rodney took hold of the wheelchair, steering him out of the mess.

John munched on his fries, only realizing he had no clue where they were going a few minutes later. "So, what's the plan? Had a specific destination in mind?"

"I did."

"Mmmm. Mysterious. Do I have to guess, or am I just going to be surprised?"

"I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out in a minute," Rodney said, moving them into the transporter and hitting the screen for the location closest to the residential quarters.

Certain parts of John's anatomy took immediate interest. He set the bowl in a strategic location to hide his growing arousal. He was already a little breathless by the time they got to Rodney's door. "Is this, ah, on the approved activities list?"

"I didn't ask."

"Oh, good. Then we aren't technically breaking any rules."

"That's what I figured," he said as they entered Rodney's quarters. The balcony doors were open and there was some snacks on the desk along with two bottles of water.

Parts of John he didn't even know were tense relaxed as the door closed. "You're the best boyfriend _ever_."

"Thought you might be a little overwhelmed," Rodney said stopping the chair in front of the desk and walking around so he could lean on the edge.

"Mmmm. A little." Rodney was probably the only person John would actually admit that to. "There were a lot of people who wanted to talk to me. I...didn't realize anyone would even really notice. Not like Lorne isn't keeping the base running."

"He's doing fine as far as I can tell," Rodney said with a shrug. "You okay?"

John closed his eyes, slumping into the chair a bit. "What answer will get you in my lap naked?"

"Would you consider the bed as an alternate location?"

"If you'll help me. I haven't started PT to get the strength back in my legs yet."

Rodney nodded, immediately moving the wheelchair and carefully helping John to sit on the bed. He tugged it back over to the desk, out of the way, before he moved back, kneeling next to the bed, his hands reaching out, but pausing before they made contact. "Can I?"

"Oh god, please." John was already more than half-hard, and his body was screaming for Rodney to touch him.

Rodney moved slowly, deliberately, reaching first for the soft black shirt and tugging it up and over John's head, tossing it to land on the wheelchair. His touch was light, brushing against John's chest and nipples as his hands headed down to unbutton the pants.

Every part of him that Rodney touched tingled, and John had to fight the urge to arch into each fleeting caress. When Rodney opened his pants, John's dick sprang out to meet him, already moist at the tip.

"Can you help get these off?" Rodney asked quietly, tugging at the waistband.

John lifted his hips up, and helped Rodney shove down pants and boxers both. He laid back down, panting, while his lover pulled them completely free. "You need to be naked, too."

"I know. We're getting to that part in a minute," Rodney said quietly, his fingers tracing the line of his muscles on his torso.

John gave up and arched into the touch, moaning. "Rodney, oh... love you, missed you, missed this..."

"Careful, John, please. If you injure something Carson will hunt me down and kill me…"

"T…trying. Just feels so good. Need you, want to fuck you and I can't..." The last came out almost as a wail, and John was a little surprised at how desperate he was suddenly.

"Shh….please, John." Rodney was begging as he stripped off his clothes, tossing them into a pile on the floor. When he turned his back toward John for a moment, John caught the glimpse of something wet and shiny on Rodney's ass.

He felt his eyes widen, and all the breath left his body. If he hadn't been needy before... "Oh..."

Rodney moved to the bed, lying on his side next to John, his hand on the other man's chest as he gently rubbed and stroked him. But John had to confirm what he saw—what he thought he saw. He snaked a hand around to Rodney's ass, his fingers feeling the slick sensation of lube.

"You..." He slid a finger in and had to fight not to come right there when he realized Rodney had already prepped himself, stretched himself.

"We have to be careful. I thought it would help things along."

"Ride me."

Rodney moved immediately, aligning himself and sinking down on John, groaning as he was stretched, as John filled him.

"Oh fuck..." John bucked up slightly, but Rodney's hands on his hips prevented him from going far. "Feel so good, oh, Rodney, oh god..."

"One…one minute. Need to…breathe…adjust."

"Good...idea... Been a...while...don't want to...come too soon." John reached up, resting his own hands on Rodney's hips.

It took Rodney a minute or two to adjust, sliding down until John was completely sheathed with his ass. Sweat was beading along his hairline as he slowly began to move up and down, fucking himself on John's cock.

John was sweating, the pace nearly driving him out of his mind. "Touch me... Want to feel your hands...all over my body..."

He nodded, physically pulling himself together in order to fulfill John's request. Rodney reached out, running his hands along John's flanks before leaning in, meeting John's lips with his own.

John managed to get a hand worked between them, panting hard into Rodney's mouth. He started to stroke his lover, using every trick he knew to make him come. John wasn't going to last much longer, and he wanted to feel Rodney come first.

Rodney moaned, his hips loosing their rhythm. He slid his hands between them, running his fingers over John's nipples.

Since he wasn't expecting it, John moaned loudly, bucking up and coming so hard the world turned white around him.

He felt a wetness between them and realized that Rodney had followed him right over the edge, panting and moaning into John's shoulder.

"Nng."

Rodney collapsed slowly right on top of John, cock still in his ass.

As best he could, John wrapped his arms around Rodney, bringing his legs up to hook behind his lover's back. Then he closed his eyes, finally—finally!—relaxing.

He was only given about a minute or two before Rodney was moving, trying to push himself off of John. "Oh god. I’m sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I was planning on—"

"Mmmm. Don' go yet. Comfy."

"I have to be crushing you. I should at least move so you can breathe. I know Carson said he fixed your rib, but—"

"S'ok. Feels good. No pain." John pulled him back down for a sloppy kiss. "Gimmie a minute and we can try whatever you had planned next. I'm game to try as many times as you want to get it right."

"That was all. I didn't want to try too much. I didn't know how you were feeling or what you were up for or what—"

John quieted him by gently pushing a finger into Rodney's mouth. It was gratifying to see his lover's eyes go wide, as his body started to almost automatically fall into submission. "It was perfect."

Rodney moaned quietly, relaxing again against John.

"You were perfect. This was perfect, and I love you so much it hurts sometimes." John let Rodney's body slide to the side, pulling out gently as he moved the scientist, managing to prop himself up so he could continue to slowly finger-fuck his lover's mouth.

Rodney's eyes were closed as he moaned around John's finger, his body shifting restlessly next to him.

Reaching down, John found one of Rodney's nipples and started to roll it gently between his fingers, slowly increasing his lover's arousal again.

He clutched at the sheets, arching into John's touch.

John loved watching Rodney fall apart slowly. He took his time, dragging it out since they both had an orgasm under their belts to take the edge off.

Rodney shuddered hard as John squeezed the nipple, tugging it away from his lover's body and eliciting a scream as Rodney arched his back, rising off the bed. Once John let go, Rodney dropped, panting hard around John's finger.

"You needed this as much as I did, didn't you? Maybe more. Just relax for me. Just let go and fall."

He shook his head from side to side as much as John's finger in his mouth would allow, clutching at the bed and panting, his body still squirming and moving.

"Yes." John pinched the nipple hard before using the pad of his thumb to soothe it. "Let go."

Rodney whimpered, fighting not to go any deeper than he already was.

John knew Rodney's body, knew the things that would put him under fast. He used every trick he was capable of right now, all the while whispering encouragement and praise, tell Rodney over and over to just let go.

But his lover fought him.

Rodney was dropping, but slowly, and John was having to work for every inch. He wished he was up to restraints, but that would be dangerous with his current inability to even walk across the room. Instead, John reached down until he could work a finger into Rodney's ass, now finger-fucking him with both hands.

His lover continued to squirm and moan, trapped between John's hands, beginning to lose himself in the sensations.

John managed to adjust his position so he could get his mouth around Rodney's abused nipple. Mmmm, nipple.

Rodney moaned low in his throat, whimpering as he sank deeper into subspace, his body becoming pliant in John's hands.

Finally. John smiled, then kissed the nipple he had been lavishing with attention. "Good, very good. So perfect. You're mine, but I haven't had the chance to remind you of that lately. Mine." He whispered the last pressing kisses into Rodney's chest.

The beeping of Rodney's radio on the bedside table completely derailed his thoughts.

Fuck. John grabbed for it—Rodney was in no shape to answer his radio. He just hoped it was someone who already knew about them. "Rodney can't come to the radio right now, but if you leave your name, number, and the nature of the emergency, he'll call you back as soon as he can. Beep."

"Colonel? Where is Rodney?" Radek sounded confused.

"Sorry. Rodney was looking a little stressed, so I convinced him to take a short nap while he had the excuse of carting me around. I needed a break anyway. I heard his radio go off, so I figured I'd answer for him. What's up?"

"Nap? Rodney does not nap. Too wound up to nap. Barely sleeps at night. I need to talk about project."

"Well, he's napping now. You just didn't know the right way to persuade him. I'm very convincing when I want to be. I'll tell him to call you when he wakes up."

John heard Radek sigh. "He forgot meeting, didn't he?"

"Um, since he didn't mention it, I'd say yeah. Can it wait?"

"Obviously, it must. Tell him he owes me coffee."

"Will do. Sheppard out." John tossed the radio back on the desk.

Rodney was still limp on the bed beside him, head turned to the side away from John.

John turned back to him, and wrapped himself around Rodney as best he could. "Hey. Sorry about that."

"Hmm?"

John nuzzled into his neck, licking at the slightly salty, Rodney-flavored skin.

Rodney sighed and tilted his head back, giving John a long line of pale skin.

So, Rodney hadn't managed to come up very far in the little break. Good. John went to work kissing, until he got to the spot that usually carried his mark—the skin was pale and unblemished. Three weeks would do that. He growled and attacked the little spot, claiming Rodney all over again.

His lover squirmed under him, whimpering and moaning as John marked him.

"Mine."

John heard some kind of moaned agreement as Rodney's entire body shuddered.

"Mmmmm." He smiled and moved to the other shoulder, creating a matching mark there.

Rodney trembled as John worked on his other shoulder, squirming and moaning and whimpering, his hands clutching at John's hips and sides.

When he was done, John made a satisfied noise. "Much better."

His lover's eyes opened slowly, barely a slit and mostly pupil. It was a good look for him.

"Mmmm, much, much better." He returned his finger to Rodney's ass, pushing in far enough to find his prostate, and massaging it gently.

Rodney groaned, shifting on the bed, back arching, his fingers digging into John's flesh wherever they could reach.

He knew Rodney could come just from this little bit of stimulation, but it would take a while—and he would have to continue to fall into headspace. Since relaxed and pliant was what John wanted, he kept the pressure steady, and rubbed.

John kept it up until Rodney's entire body was trembling and shuddering, hands no longer able to grip onto John's hips, head thrown back as he tried to gulp in air in between moans.

"Come for me. Just like this. Without a hand on your dick, just one finger and that sweet spot and knowing that I'm the one taking care of you."

Rodney whimpered, his body shuddering once, hard and then he was coming, spilling over his stomach, leaving streaks of milky white. John continued to massage Rodney's prostate, milking every last drop from his lover's cock. His head lolled to the side as he panted and moaned quietly.

Pulling his finger free, John curled himself along Rodney's side, draping an arm over his chest possessively. He was hard, but there was no way he was up to fucking Rodney yet without the scientist doing most of the work, and right now he was a McKay-shaped puddle of goo.

God, John had missed this.

Rodney's breathing evened out quickly, and John propped himself up on one elbow to watch, smiling. He hadn't tossed Rodney's radio far before, so he stretched, snagging it without loosing contact with his lover. Hooking it over his ear, he turned it on. "Sheppard to Beckett."

"Colonel? Where did you get a radio?"

"Borrowing Rodney's. I wanted to check in with you. I'm in his room, and he's napping, and I'm not far behind. Can I just have him bring me back when we wake up later? Or did you have a specific time you needed to see me again?"

"Napping?" John could almost see Carson rolling his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Why does that surprise everyone? And all right. I'm tired, but more relaxed than I've been in a while. And before you ask, I've been making an effort not to overdo it."

"Any pains?"

"No, but I haven't tried to stand up on my own. I've either been in the chair or lying on Rodney's bed the whole time. See, I can take advice sometimes."

"When it suits you. Aye. Call if there are any problems."

"All right. I'll be back before midnight Mom, don't worry."

"I'd prefer earlier than that. Don't overdo it."

"We'll get hungry before that. Although he does have snacks prepared."

"MREs and PowerBars don't count."

John started to respond, but yawned instead. "'Kay. Can I go sleep now? Or did you want to make me regret checking in and lecture me some more?"

"Make sure you eat dinner and come back to the infirmary. Beckett out."

Chuckling to himself, John stretched back out along Rodney, the radio returned to the bedside table. He took a few deep breaths, and, with a happy and content smile, he fell asleep.

***

Lorne scrubbed his hands over his face wishing for a black hole to appear and swallow him completely. The Colonel was finally being released from the infirmary—at least as of this morning—and he had immediately scheduled a re-cap of everything.

Apparently keeping up with his email during his convalescence hadn't been on his agenda.

So, Lorne was sitting in his CO's office sorting reports and papers and requisition forms—twenty from McKay in one day—since Sheppard had only told him about the meeting thirty minutes ago.

Being pushed by one of the nurses, the Colonel himself arrived a few minutes later. Apparently, Beckett had told him he was allowed to get up to move from one seat to another, or into a bed, but if he was caught walking, he would be re-admitted to the infirmary indefinitely.

Lorne was sure that would happen within a day or so. Some of the men from the original expedition already had a pool.

It was obvious Sheppard was uncomfortable being pushed around, so as soon as they were in the office, he moved to a regular seat. "All right, how bad is it?"

Peering at him over a foot-high pile of paper, Lorne shrugged. "Probably as bad as it looks."

Leaning back into the chair, Sheppard propped his feet up on the desk. "Why don't we start with the highlights?"

"Did you read any of your emails?"

John made a disgusted face. "Believe it or not, I tried, but Beckett the Bloody caught me every damn time I got my hands on a networked laptop. It's like he has a sixth sense."

Lorne raised an eyebrow, but didn't argue with him. "So, I won't even begin to go through the emails that are in your inbox. I've also been ignoring the threatening ones I've gotten from McKay about your inbox being over its size limit." Taking a breath, he glanced at the piles across the desk. "I can start with mission reports—or you can just read them over later. Things have been quiet on that front for once. We've had a few altercations between the science and military staffs, mostly the new folks, but things have settled down for now."

"Start with the altercations." Sheppard sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. "Basic reports I can read later, and I'll just delete all McKay's stuff—he knows I never read anything he sends me. But if we have personnel problems, I'm going to have to deal with those sooner, rather than later."

Lorne nodded, pulling out the files as he leaned back in the desk chair. "Well, you know the first one pretty well, I imagine—McKay's altercation with Ronon."

Sheppard nodded, suddenly looking really tired. "I'm already working on that one. God, who knew Ronon would take him seriously when McKay said the only way he was leaving the lab was if someone dragged him out."

"McKay didn't, that's for sure."

"I've already scheduled a team night. If I can get them to be in the same room together for more than five seconds..."

"Good luck with that." Lorne's tone was dry.

Sheppard gave him a wry look. "Thanks. What else?"

Lorne flipped through the pages in his hands, wincing. Sheppard was not going to be happy. "You sure you want to know?"

"I'm going to have to sooner or later."

"We had an argument that ended in a brief fist-fight between Kavanagh and Anderson. Surprisingly, Anderson was the one who lost. Seems the scientist has a pretty mean right hook when he closes his eyes and swings."

"Why was Anderson fighting with a member of the science staff? Granted, Kavanagh is a total ass, but even I've refrained from hitting him."

"Apparently, Calvin was setting something up that shouldn't be connected to the main power systems and Anderson happened to catch him during his rounds. Kavanagh came out swinging. Claimed it was an accident. I know McKay's already had it out with Kavanagh."

John just let his head fall back, groaning. "All right, make a note in Anderson's file that he had a question about the actions of a science staff member, but before he could report, he took a hit. Also note that the science personnel is being disciplined by their own department head, so no further action will be taken at this time."

Lorne made the notes and set the file aside. "Next is Anderson and MacDonald."

Sheppard lifted his head, eyebrow up. "Just how many altercations has Anderson gotten in to?"

"I think…hang on," Lorne said, shuffling through the papers. "Five."

Sheppard sat up at that. "Fuck. What are they?"

"Kavanagh's is the only one that involved an actual fight," Lorne said, scanning the reports, "but the rest include inappropriate comments, one for sexual harassment…"

"On Anderson's part, or directed at him?"

"These are all complaints from other parties—all scientists."

"Lovely. So odds are good Kavanagh wasn't just reacting to him poking his nose in then." He hit his radio, and Lorne noticed his eyes were closed. "Sheppard to McKay. Would you mind swinging by my office when you get a moment? I have reports that one of the new Marines is making...inappropriate....comments, but I know damn well there's probably more going on than has been officially reported. I need you to give me a run-down of how bad it is and what's been done before I decide what to do with him."

After a brief pause, he nodded to himself. "Thanks. Sheppard out." Opening his eyes, he gave Evan a small smile. "McKay is on his way. I won't have our guys causing problems—this is too small of a community for that kind of fractioning. We might have to ship him back on the next Daedalus run, but I'll withhold judgment until I hear how bad it is."

"And you might want to have waited on that call," Lorne said with a slight wince.

"Oh? Why?"

"Of the other ten reports I have, McKay's involved with every one of them."

Sheppard's feet came off the desk as he leaned forward. His tone turned slightly more menacing. "Oh?"

"No physical violence of any sort was involved, but McKay has seemingly made a point of antagonizing several of the new soldiers enough for them to file a complaint."

"Define antagonize. He's a little...abrasive...if you don't take him with a grain of salt. And he has no tolerance for stupidity. Do we know what the circumstances are surrounding the complaints? I know Rodney has absolutely no filter on his mouth whatsoever, but I've never seen him set out to be deliberately cruel."

Lorne shook his head. "I only witnessed one of the…events and while it did revolve around someone trying to touch something they shouldn't, he was far more…cutting than normal. I took it that he was having a bad day, but for so many complaints within a short period of time…"

"Huh. How short a time?"

"From the reports from the last year, incidents like these were far and few between. I think in one year's time, McKay only had three complaints filed against him. Now, in two weeks he has ten…not including the incident with Ronon which a number of people saw."

"So...he's been pissy since he watched you and I get tortured, unable to stop it. And knowing him, he's twisted it around somehow so he can blame himself. Fuck, why did I want to get released from the infirmary again?"

Lorne shook his head. "No, sir, I think there has to be more involved. Doctor Heightmeyer did give him a clean bill of health. That was the only way he could have been released in the first place."

Sheppard's expression was a bit pained for a fraction of a second before the bland mask slipped back into place. "You do know that McKay has been working on top secret bases his entire career, right? And you've met the man—would you ever peg him as someone who could pass the rigorous psych exams we all had to take? Don't underestimate him, Major. McKay can't lie, but he is very, very good at keeping secrets when he wants to."

"I'll keep that in mind," Lorne said as the door to Sheppard's office slid open.

"I can't believe you had to do this right now," Rodney was saying as he walked in. "Some of us have work to do."

"You could have said no. I did say 'when you have a minute.'"

Rodney scowled, his arms folding across his chest. "And that means 'right now'. I know you, Colonel."

Sheppard sighed softly. "Anderson. I have the official reports. Tell me what isn't in them."

"Kavanagh punched him, what's to tell?"

"There have been other reports. From other members of your staff. Since it was your staff complaining, I'm going to assume you know more than me."

"Anderson's an ass."

Evan looked back and forth between them. Watching the two of them was almost better than a movie some days.

"Yes, I got that part, McKay. What I'm trying to determine is whether he is an ass enough to be sent home, if he is being an ass because he doesn't know any better, or if this is just his way of attempting to fit in and failing miserably. All of those require different sorts of responses."

"What does it matter? He's an ass. If you have questions talk to the people who filed the complaints."

"All right. I will. In the meantime, why don't you tell me why you're acting like an ass. I have complaints against you, and while nothing new—and I usually laugh about how stupid they are—there are a few too many in too short a time to shrug them off."

Rodney looked surprised for a minute before he laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. "And here I thought soldiers were tough. It's not my fault your men have thin skins. So, who ran to momma?"

Sheppard sighed. "How many do we have, Lorne?"

Evan stuttered for a minute, too caught up with the unfolding drama. "Ah…ten."

"And that was in a two-week period, when there were what, five? In the entire six months before that? So, Rodney, wanna tell me what's going on?"

Lorne nodded. "Five in the past year, actually."

Sheppard hadn't taken his eyes off McKay, who, oddly enough, seemed to be almost pinned in place by the stare. "Rodney?"

"I have no idea."

"Major, would you mind giving us a minute?" Sheppard still hadn't looked away.

"Actually, sir, I need to be here for the questioning of anyone involved in these reports." He winced. "I'm sorry, but it's SOP."

"I'm not questioning him. I'm going to have a chat with my teammate for a few minutes. You can wait outside, and I'll call you back in. If I have to, I'll make it an order."

"Sir…"

Sheppard finally looked over at him. "Major."

Lorne held his eyes for a minute before nodding. "I'll be right outside."

"Thank you."

He rose, moving out into the hallway. The door slid shut behind him and he heard the lock click. Great. Leaning against the wall, Lorne waited until the Colonel was ready to let him in.

***

Rodney watched Lorne walk past him out of John's office, hearing the click of the lock once the door closed.

He rolled his eyes.

"Come here."

Rodney didn't move. "What is this all about, Sheppard? I have work to do and I thought we were here to discuss Anderson and yet I find myself being grilled."

"I don't want to grill you, that's why I sent Lorne out." John held out a hand. "Come here. I want to talk to you for a minute."

"We can discuss things just fine from where we are," Rodney said, shaking his head, shifting another few inches away. "Should I remind you that Lorne is just outside the door and I'm here in a professional capacity?"

"I'm not going to ravish you. I want to touch you. I promise I won't leave you looking mussed."

"And how would touching me help with the current situation?"

"There is no current situation. I just like touching you."

Rodney shook his head. As much as he wanted to obey, there had to be a line drawn. "There's a time and a place, Colonel. If you have anything to ask me regarding the reports on Anderson or the inane reports about me, then I suggest you call Lorne in and we get down to it. I have work to do."

John eyes were tired. "It wasn't your fault."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Of course those incidents weren’t my fault. I'm not the one who gave your men cases of terminal stupidness."

"That's not what I was talking about."

"Then I suggest you either attempt to make one iota of sense or else let me get back to work."

John stood slowly, still careful since his muscles weren't back to full use yet. He moved towards Rodney. "This. Me. It. Wasn't. Your. Fault."

McKay shifted back, his eyes widening. "Sheppard, you need to sit down. Your muscles aren't up for walking." His hand immediately rose to his radio, intending to have Lorne over-ride the lock.

"You wouldn't come to me. So I have to come to you." John moved faster than Rodney thought he could, pulling the radio free and tossing it on the desk. Then he wrapped his arms around Rodney's shoulders. He could feel John's muscles shaking with the effort of holding his weight so soon. "There was nothing you could have done. He had already tortured us, and you were just an excuse to do it again."

Rodney instinctively wrapped his arms around John to hold him up and help take some of his weight. "Why are you even bringing that up?"

"Because I know you. The reports are all from the last two weeks—since we got back. You're taking on the guilt for something that wasn't your fault. And when I can walk again, I am going back to shoot that fucker for making you think it was."

"The planet is already locked out of our dialing computer," Rodney said immediately, a flash of memory intruding, of Milos as Ronon killed him. "And I have no intention of talking about what happened. I did that already."

John sagged suddenly, pulling Rodney to the floor. "Ow. Sorry. Legs gave out. And you haven't talked to me about it."

"I talked to Kate."

"But not to me."

"And?" Rodney rolled his eyes.

"Rodney." John cupped his face, thumb dragging along his jawline. "Tell me what's bothering you."

McKay leaned back, his head thumping against the wall. No. Nononono. He yelled at his body and mind, needing to hold onto the barriers he'd erected. "I was trying to work when I was rudely interrupted."

John followed him, hands caressing all the right places. "Why are you fighting me? What are you trying to hide from me?"

"Because we're sitting on the floor in your fucking office with Lorne standing outside the door," he hissed, pulling out the only weapon he had, the only one he could hold onto: his anger.

Which—bastard—John found both sexy and amusing. "I wanted you to come sit with me." His expression turned serious. "I'm worried about you, Rodney. Why won't you trust me with what's bothering you?"

"I’m fine."

"No, you aren't."

"Are we done? I need to get back to work."

John sighed, rolling so he was lying on the ground, flat on his back. "Fine. But no, we aren't done, because I have ten complaints I have to deal with. One or two I can shrug off, but Lorne has to come back in here, and we have to figure out how the hell you want us to respond to them."

Rodney shook his head and shrugged. "Do whatever you have to do. You will anyway."

"Why do you always try to make me into the bad guy? When have I ever been anything except concerned about you? You might not agree with me, but you know damn well almost everything I do is to try and protect you in some way."

"And I also know you have a responsibility to Atlantis, this expedition, and to the US government." Rodney shifted, managing to get his feet under him and helping John back to his chair.

"And you still come first. Always."

"I'm not in this to get preferential treatment."

John rolled his eyes. "I love you, you jackass. I can't help it. Its not preferential treatment, it's that I care more about you than about what anyone thinks of me."

"I guess it depends on how you look at it. Should I get Lorne?"

"He'll keep. I think he's considering making a pass at Parrish. Your partner in geekdom impressed him a lot more than he expected, and then was hanging around the infirmary a lot. Lorne gets a weird look whenever I bring up Parrish."

"Okay….one, I have no partner in geekdom. Two, even if I did have a partner in geekdom it would not be a botanist. Three, since when do I care who's fucking who? As long as they get their jobs done I don't care. Four, since when are you the office matchmaker?"

John smirked. "Right, Zelenka is the number one partner. Parrish is just the occasional extra. And I didn't say I was setting him up. Just that I noticed. Lorne needs his own geek to protect. It'll be good for him."

"What's good for the goose and all?"

John reached out, grabbing Rodney and pulling him down into his lap before Rodney could react. John's mouth was demanding, his hands firm, not willing to let go until Rodney surrendered at least this much.

Rodney struggled to get up, to disengage—this wasn’t the place or the time—refusing to submit.

John just held on, kissing him, moving on to kiss and nip at Rodney's neck when he managed to get his mouth away. "You're mine, Rodney. Fucking mine, and that doesn't change just because some fucker decided to use me for a punching bag. Mine."

No. He wasn't going to think about that, about what happened, about what he did and didn't do. He needed to get up, get away before his lover finally managed to get through the barriers he'd set up. Those walls were the only things that kept everything in place, that kept him working, functioning. "John, please…"

A hand snaked under his shirt, almost scalding against his skin. "No. I'm not letting you shut me out."

"Sheppard, no."

"John."

"Sheppard," Rodney repeated, trying to back away.

John's grip tightened. "John."

"Red."

One eyebrow went up. "Blue."

"I said no, Sheppard."

John nuzzled at his neck, pressing light kisses there. His voice was very soft. "It wasn't your fault Rodney. At all. And I'm so sorry you had to see any of it."

Rodney felt a little panic setting in when John wouldn't stop. He had to stop. McKay knew he couldn't hold on much longer. He pushed at John's chest, trying to get up, to get away. "No, Sheppard. Let me go."

"What are you so afraid of? You know I won't hurt you."

"Just let me go."

With a sigh, John let his arms fall. He sat back, and Rodney saw the flash of hurt in his eyes before he looked away.

Shaking slightly, Rodney got up, wrapping his arms around his upper body. "I need to go back to work. Can you unlock the door?"

The door clicked open, but John didn't look back up.

"Thank you, Colonel," Rodney said, already making his way to the door.

"I'm sorry."

Rodney paused, glancing over his shoulder. "I'm sure you'll let me know how you want to move forward with those complaints."

"I'll let Lorne handle it. So you won't have to worry about preferential treatment. Wouldn't want to bother you."

Rodney nodded. "Fine."

"No, I'm not, but thanks for asking."

Rodney sighed, turning back, heat tinting his voice. "What do you want from me, Sheppard? I came here because you asked me to in order to discuss one of your men and instead I find myself locked in a room with you because you have some delusion that I’m harboring strange thoughts about what happened in a horrible off-world incident. And then, when I try to stop the conversation I get groped and you refuse to take no for an answer. What else do you want me to do?"

John had slumped down into the chair as far as he could go, and closed his eyes. "I didn't know about the other complaints against you until after I called you. I'm sorry if it made me worry about you. You're not acting like yourself, and you're pushing me away and...fine, I groped you, touched you inappropriately, whatever. Just... God, I can't do this right now, Rodney. I fucking hurt, and I can't be strong enough for both of us."

"I’m not asking you to be."

"Yes, you are. And I'm trying. I'm really trying here, but... I'm apparently failing spectacularly."

"And for your information, I am acting like myself. And I’m sorry I'm not living up to your high standards."

"I don't have standards. I just see someone I care about lashing out, and when I try to help, he punched me in the stomach and basically told me I was a step away from raping him. Gee, don't I feel good." John sighed. "I really don't want to fight with you. I'm not angry, I'm not anything. Just tired. So fucking tired."

"Join the club," Rodney whispered, already turning to the door. "I'll let Lorne back in so you can decide what my punishment will be."

"You won't be punished. God... That isn't... Why do you always assume the worst from me?"

Rodney sighed, the first real words of truth finally falling from his mouth. "I assume the worst from everyone. Saves me from being disappointed."

John opened his eyes, and Rodney realized he wasn't looking at the usual mask—he was seeing John Sheppard, a tired, probably in pain man, who was upset that he had upset Rodney. "I thought I was different."

"You are."

"I want to be. But sometimes I just don't know."

"Neither do I." Rodney turned back to the door, finally getting in range of the sensor, the panels sliding open. Lorne was standing outside, leaning against the wall. "All yours, Major."

"Sir?"

"The Colonel's waiting for you."

"Ah, okay. Is, ah, everything okay sir?"

"Just as fine as can be. Let me know what you decide."

"Oh...all right...sir..." Lorne trailed off as Rodney walked away.

He managed to get to his room before the shaking started. Once inside he slid to the ground, wrapping his arms around his upraised knees as he breathed deep, trying to pull himself together. Work. He needed to work. Then everything would be okay. He'd be able to forget and maybe eventually even forgive himself.

***

John sat on one of Atlantis’ many balconies, knees pulled to chest, arms wrapped around them. He hated this. Hated being so weak, hated not having control over his own god-damned body.

He ruthlessly suppressed the shaking.

PT had been a nightmare today, and he had barely held it together. He was getting some stamina back, but he still couldn’t even make across the room without his legs giving out. Carson said it was normal, and was pleased with his progress considering how bad his injuries had been…

Without warning, John snapped back to the planet, to the feeling of bones breaking, before he was back in Atlantis again, a cold sweat across his brow. He had managed to ignore what had happened to him until now, but the last few days…

He didn’t hear the door open, so he almost hit the ceiling jerking away when a hand touched his shoulder.

"Woah, laddie. Sorry. I thought you heard me."

It took him half a second to convince himself this wasn't an attack, for him to slip his easy smile back on. He had no idea what, if anything, Carson caught. "Hey, sorry, no, didn't hear it open. You startled me."

"Obviously," the Scot said, sliding down to sit next to John. "Heard you were having some issues with your appointment this morning."

"Issues? Me? Nah, who told you that?"

"Do you think my staff is going to lie on their official reports?"

"What's there to lie about? I showed up, I did it, I'm following all your advice."

"You're getting frustrated and were snapping at my staff."

Great. He thought he had managed to hide it better. "I'll work on the snapping thing. Didn't mean to."

Carson shifted, leaning into John's shoulder. "What's wrong, John?"

He closed his eyes. "Don't ask me that."

"You need to talk to someone. You're about ready to explode."

"Talking isn't going to help that. Being able to walk from one end of a room to the other without needing to take a break. That's what I need."

"It'll come. You're making good progress."

John swallowed hard. The nurse he had snapped at had said something similar, and even now it made him want to break things.

"Breathe, Colonel."

"I don't want to breathe. I want my fucking life back." He sucked in a breath. He hadn't meant to let that slip out.

"You're healing—much better than you would without Ancient technology. Your PT is going very well, even better than we anticipated. I know you're frustrated, but you are doing well."

"And it doesn't mean shit. I still can't walk, can't command my base, can't get anything done, can't even figure out what's wrong with Rodney." He took a deep breath. "Sorry. Look, I'm really not great company right now."

"Something's wrong with Rodney apart from his unusually abrasive personality?"

"I don't know. He's pushed me away every time I've tried to find out what's going on. He won't even let me get near him or touch him."

Carson was quiet for a moment. "You've both been through a very traumatic event. It's going to take some time for you to get back to your normal rhythms."

A cruel smirk. The sharp feeling of bone snapping, breaking. The satisfied look when he screamed. John rushed back into the present curled on his side, shaking, Carson's eyes wide above him.

"John? Lad? You with me?"

He sucked in a breath. "Y…eah. Here. Sorry. What experience wouldn't be complete without a little PTSD, eh?" He tried to brush it off, smirk, as he pushed himself up again.

Carson held him down. "Hang on a minute. Take your time. There's no rush." Giving John a few minutes to catch his breath, the Scot finally let him up, helping him lean back against the wall again. "You haven't talked to Kate yet, have you?"

"Course I have. Required to be cleared for duty, remember?"

"Do I need to check with Kate?"

"I talked to her. We had a lovely conversation." He gritted his teeth, turning his head away. "I'm fine, Carson."

Carson tapped his radio. "Beckett to Heightmeyer."

Fuck.

"Lass, have you had the chance to file your report on Colonel Sheppard?...Oh, really. I thought…yes, yes I'll make sure to tell him when I see him next. Thank you, Beckett out." Carson turned to him, frowning.

"See? Told you I had talked to her."

"She mentioned you had skipped all of your appointments."

He blinked. "Not all of them. There was the one, in the infirmary, when I couldn't get up. We chatted."

"You were stoned."

"It still counts."

"Actually, no. It doesn't."

John fought down a wave of panic. He decided to go on the offensive. "Look, I can't walk anywhere by myself, so you can't accuse me of skipping sessions. If she wants to talk to me again because 'it didn't count', she can damn well come find me."

"And yet you're managing to get to and from the mess, your office, the control room, the jumper bay, and other places just fine."

"Being pushed in a chair. By someone else. I don't have a lot of say in the matter."

"Then why is it that I've seen you wheeling yourself when you need to get somewhere and you don't have an escort?"

"I'm impatient." He gritted his teeth, trying to push himself up. He needed to go somewhere else before he lost his temper. He knew, on some level that Beckett was trying to help, but John didn't want to deal with it.

"No kidding." Carson helped him up and settled in his chair before taking the handles and maneuvering him out the door.

John tried to get control away from Carson. "What are you doing?"

"Stop it and put your hands in your lap. I have no intention of taking off your fingers now that they're fixed." Carson said sharply.

He jerked his hands away, feeling them break again, feeling the sharp pain of having them broken. He tried to curl around them tried to protect them. "No... oh God no, not again..."

Carson's hand was warm on the back of his neck as they rolled down the hallway.

Shaking, John pulled himself out of the flashback. They were getting stronger, more frequent. "Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere private."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" God, he felt like a teenage girl, with these damn mood swings. Anger rose to the surface, and despite himself he knew it was coming out in his tone.

The doctor was silent as they ended a transporter exiting a few beats later in the medical area of Atlantis. But Carson didn't wheel him into the infirmary, but instead kept moving, turning the corner toward some of the private offices.

Oh fuck. "No. Nonono. I don't want to do this right now Carson. I just need to get a good night's sleep. I'll be fine tomorrow."

"You've been avoiding it and I will not have you throwing yourself off the deep end," Carson said, his voice tight. "You will sit in Kate's office and you will talk to her and you will take whatever she prescribes. Do you understand?"

"I'm not going off the deep end. Just tired. Very tired. Please, I'm fine. I'll talk to her later, once I'm a little more mobile again."

"No."

Oh this was bad. All he needed was one damn flashback in front of the psychologist and he was screwed. When Carson paused at a door, John took a chance and tried to stand, to walk away and forget about this.

The Scot was expecting it, his hand on his shoulder forcing him back down into the chair. "Do not make me do this the hard way."

"I thought this was the hard way." John struggled, pissed at himself that he couldn't break free.

"Oh no. This is the easy way. You do not want to experience the hard way. Trust me." Carson waved his hand over Kate's door panel, the chime echoing inside.

Restraints. Oh god, he was talking about restraints, and John couldn't help curling into himself again. "I'll behave," he said softly.

"I know you will," Carson said, his voice softer, his touch lighter. The door slid open a minute later to reveal Kate, her eyes widening when she took them in.

"Doctor Beckett. Colonel Sheppard. I wasn't expecting you."

"Aye. And sorry to drop in on you like this but the Colonel here needs a hearing ear and some of your professional services."

John opened his mouth to protest, but Carson's hand tightened on his shoulder, and he flinched, hard.

Kate smiled warmly, stepping back to let the two men into the room. Carson managed to maneuver John to one of the chairs in her office, folding the wheelchair and moving it to the side of the room. "Let me know when the Colonel's ready to leave. I'll be doing some work in my office. Thanks, lassie."

John fought the urge to just get up and walk out, his blood pumping hard in his chest. He glared at Beckett's back as the other man left before turning to Kate. "This wasn't my idea."

"I figured as much," she said, offering a smile. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Water?"

Sighing, he leaned back in the chair. "No, I'm fine."

"So how are you feeling, physically? You look like your PT is coming along."

He considered not answering, but the threat of restraints hovered over him—damn Beckett for honing in on his weak point right now. "I'm told I'm making good progress."

Kate looked at him carefully as she settled in the chair opposite him, cradling a mug in her hands. "You don't think so?"

"I haven't walked away yet, Kate—because I can't, not because I don't want to."

"Okay," she said inclining her head. "But don't you want to get better?"

"I'm fine. I'll be better once I can fucking walk again." He ran a hand through his hair. He knew it was a nervous gesture, but he couldn't still himself.

"And Doctor Hyland is trying to help you with that."

"I know. And I already apologized to Beckett for snapping at him. I'll apologize to him tomorrow. I'm making good progress, etc., etc."

"An apology, while nice, is not necessary. He has a pretty thick skin. I don't think you're the first person to curse him out although you may be one of the more…creative." Kate smiled warmly, obviously trying to lighten the mood a little.

He allowed her do it, although he didn't drop his guard. The offensive wasn't working anyway. Time to try plan B—charm. Just don't change gears too fast, or she'll catch on. He let his lips quirk up a bit. "Comes from hanging out with the science staff. You learn all kinds of colorful curses."

"I've actually wanted to learn some Czech just to know what the good doctor has to say about McKay some days," Kate said, nodding.

John let his lips turn up a bit more, tilting his head slightly. Rodney accused him of being Captain Kirk, and he would never admit it out loud but John was well aware that he was considered attractive by some people, and he wasn't above using that as a weapon when he needed to. "You probably don't really want to know."

"Actually, I think I would. It might give me a little more insight into the man."

"Insight into Radek? You're a brave woman." He let his grin turn into a full smile, winking at her.

"Actually I was talking about Doctor McKay."

"Even braver."

"Possibly," she said with a shrug, taking a sip of her tea. "I think Doctor Zelenka is one of the people that knows him the best—especially because of how closely they work together. I know they'd worked together on other projects even before the Atlantis mission."

John was willing to talk about Rodney for as long as she wanted. It was better than talking about himself. "Watching them work together is always interesting. It's like a theatre of foreign words and waving hands. Better than HBO."

"It is," she said, her expression turning thoughtful. "Sometimes I wonder though…how much does he really understand?"

"McKay? He speaks fluent Czech, I believe. And Russian. And a few other languages in bits and pieces. He knows the basics at least of every language someone on his staff speaks. I don't think most of them know that, and he prefers it that way, but he does understand them."

"That's interesting."

John shrugged. "I guess. There's a lot more to McKay than most people give him credit for."

"I know. A lot of people underestimate him, I think."

"That's why Atlantis is so good for him. He's not being hated or revered for his intelligence and abilities, nor is he being completely underestimated. He can live up to his potential on his own terms—and I think he's surprised himself more than once."

She shook her head back and forth a little, taking another sip from her mug. "I'm not so sure about that."

"Which part?" He raised an eyebrow.

"While I agree that Atlantis has been good for him and that he has surprised himself at times—how he has been able to rise to the occasion, so to speak—the other parts, I think, are still there."

John shrugged. "I didn't say we were all perfect. But I think McKay does better here than he has anywhere else."

"Maybe."

John fought the urge to fidget.

"I was surprised with what happened in the mess hall."

"Yeah, I had a talk with Ronon about that already. Cultural miscommunication."

"A pretty big miscommunication."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yeah. Tell me about it."

"I was actually surprised at the…viciousness of his comments."

"I wasn't there."

"I was."

"Shouldn't you be talking to McKay about this?"

She shrugged. "I've tried."

All right, this was getting them no where. Time to blow this joint. He had talked, just like Carson wanted him to. "Sorry to hear about that. Hey, I think I have some paperwork Elizabeth wanted done today. I think I'll just—"

"You're uncomfortable talking about McKay? He's a member of your team."

"I'm uncomfortable talking about him behind his back, yes. It doesn't really serve any purpose, since it isn't helping him at all."

"I was hoping to get some insight from you, but if you're uncomfortable let's change the subject and talk about your own short fuse as of late."

Lovely. "I never got a transcript of what was actually said in the mess hall. What did McKay say?"

"Maybe you should ask him."

"I have. He wouldn't tell me. And while I could order Ronon to tell me, he's been avoiding me, too."

"Why do you think that is the case?"

Sighing, John sank back into the chair. At least this was better than talking about his own issues. "Because the last time I saw him, I chewed him out for what happened."

"And you think that your…discussion is enough to keep him away?"

"Since I haven't seen him since then, I have to assume that yes, it would."

"So why do you think McKay's been avoiding you?"

"Wait, I thought we were talking about Ronon?"

"We were, but you brought up Doctor McKay again."

"I did? Okay, look, yes, my team is having issues at the moment. Yes, I need to deal with them, and no, I can't because I can't fucking walk from one room to another at the moment and the damn chair isn't a whole lot better. So what do you want me to say? I'll say it, and then you can tell Beckett to back off."

"I don't want you to say anything. I'm trying to talk to you."

"No, you're trying to grill me. Look, we both know I'm here under protest, so can I just leave? I'm fine, McKay's fine, Ronon's fine, I'm pretty sure Teyla is fine. We're all fine." He didn't know why he was getting so angry, but he was standing, trying to force his muscles to obey him again.

"Colonel…John…" Kate was standing, her hands empty and outstretched, her eyes wide. "Why don't you just sit down and relax for a minute?"

She moved, reaching out for him, and he couldn't stop himself from flinching back, which unfortunately made him stumble back and fall heavily into the chair. For a moment all he had seen was Milos, reaching out, touching him, calling him too pretty to beat, then turning around and ordering his fingers broken. "Fuckfuckfuck."

"What did you see just now? Who?"

"No." The familiar cold sweat and shakes were back. Was he going to get those every damn time?

"No one will hurt you here. You're safe. It'll only get worse if you don't talk about it. Let me help you."

He shook his head before letting it fall into his hands. "It's fine. It will go away."

"You, of all people, know that doesn't happen."

"It will this time!" He growled it, flinching again at his own tone. What the fuck was wrong with him?

"No, John, it won't. But you're home and safe, now."

He growled again, refusing to look up.

"Who hurt you?"

"You've read the reports."

"No, I haven't. Not yet."

"Then you've seen Beckett's reports on my injuries. That's enough."

"That tells me what was done, but not who did it. Do I need to go through your injuries? Ask you how your fingers were broken? How your wrists and ankles were broken? How you received the bruises, the welts, the cracked ribs…"

"Stop. Stopstopstop..." He tried to curl into himself, every catalog item getting a twinge, remembered pain shooting through him. "Milos. The fucker’s name was Milos and he was the leader of the damn faction."

"And he focused on you."

"I wanted it that way. Better me than Lorne. Or Rodney."

"Why?"

"I'm Lorne's commanding officer, and Rodney's team leader. It's my job to protect them."

"But that didn't work the entire time, did it?"

"No." He gritted it out, lifting his head to glare at her.

"What happened?"

Fine. He would give her the short and sweet version. "We were captured. Milos wanted information and we didn't want to give it to him. I made a nuisance of myself, so he gagged me and broke my fingers to try and get what he wanted from Lorne. Then we were flogged when we still wouldn't give him the information. Then he caught McKay and broke my wrists and ankles to try and get him to talk."

"So it was Lorne's and McKay's fault that you received your injuries."

"No! God, no. It was the fucker who ordered it who was at fault. Lorne was following my orders—which is why I was fucking gagged. And McKay did talk when they started torturing me in front of him. But it didn't make a damn bit of difference."

"But they only began talking when you were being tortured. If they'd answered his questions up front you might not have received such severe injuries which you are still recovering from weeks later while they're walking around, going about their normal routine."

"It wouldn't have mattered. It might not have been as severe, but I was going to be beaten no matter what we did. I wasn't going to sit back and just hand over secrets to avoid a few bruises."

"How can you be so certain?"

"I just am. The beatings started even before he was asking for information."

"Maybe that was just to wear you down. Isn't that something that's done?"

"It wasn't to wear us down, it was to break us. Pure and simple."

"You're angry."

He glared again. "Gee, what gave you that idea?"

"Why are you angry?"

He wanted to get up and pace. Since he couldn't, he tightened his grip on his own thighs. There were going to be bruises. "I was fucking tortured. Why do you think?"

"You've never gotten this angry before in similar situations."

"Sure I have. I'm just usually better at hiding it."

"Why is it different now?"

He didn't know, and it pissed him off even more. So he just glared at her.

She gazed back at him evenly, keeping silent for a moment. When she finally spoke again, her next words were quiet. "You don't know why it's different, but something about you has changed and that scares you. Am I close?"

All of the sudden, his anger deflated, and to his horror, he realized he was near tears. God, what the hell was wrong with him? "Maybe."

"And you're frustrated. You want things to be back to normal, but you also know that they can't be—at least not right away. And every time you see the two men who were with you walking around, it just emphasizes how…out of control things became."

"No. I really don't blame Lorne or Rodney. It wasn't their fault, and I know that. I'm just not dealing very well with the loss of my freedom. If they would just let me up in a Jumper for a few hours..."

"I don't think you're strong enough to fly, but maybe one of the other pilots can."

He laughed, knowing it sounded slightly hysterical. "That defeats the purpose."

"Maybe. I can ask for you."

He was quiet for a long moment. "The flashbacks are getting worse. They started a few days ago, and they're getting longer, and harder to pull out of."

"Are they of the torture itself?"

"Sometimes. Pain. I can feel my bones being broken again and again. See it coming, know I can't stop it."

"And other times?" Her voice was quiet, her questions whispered, feeling as if they were coming from within his own head in a way.

"I can feel his damn hands on me, smirking. Know he's about to order them to hurt me. Or Lorne. Or Rodney. And I can't even protest, since I've been gagged. He beat Lorne first, before they started on me. Said I was too fucking pretty to damage. That changed pretty fast."

"But they didn't hit your face, did they?"

He shuddered. "I don't want to imagine where it would have gone eventually if we hadn't been rescued."

"Do you think you would have been violated as a way to gain your compliance?"

He had seen it in Milos's eyes. "Yes."

"And that made you uncomfortable given your sexual orientation." She said it as a statement, not a question.

"No. It made me uncomfortable because I don't like rape, no matter what form it comes in. It's not about sex. It's about power and abusing it. Add to that the fact that it wouldn't have been to get information from me, but from Lorne or McKay, and it's worse. They would break me to gain their cooperation."

"And what would they have had to do to get yours?"

"My cooperation? Nothing. They would have had to kill me." He knew it was a lie—anyone could be broken eventually, would give the enemy what he wanted. But it was one of the few illusions he was clinging to right now.

"So if they had tried to rape McKay, you would have let them."

He jerked hard, unable to stop the shaking at that. McKay was _his_. No one got to touch him that way, put their hands on him like that. His voice felt rough, like he had been screaming again. Screaming, oh God... "No..."

"No, what, John?"

"Don't touch him." He almost felt like he was in two places at once. On one level he knew he was in Kate Heightmeyer's office, but at the same time, he was back on the planet, scared out of his mind for Rodney. And he couldn't break free.

"Why? What's so special about him?"

"He's _mine_ and if you fucking touch him I will kill you." He was shaking. No, he wasn't supposed to say things like that. But they were going to hurt Rodney. God, he had to stop this, stop them...

"John? John, can you hear me?" Kate's voice was far away, barely a buzzing insect in the wind.

"Oh, God, I can't stop it, I'm so sorry, Rodney, I'm so sorry..." He felt himself slipping further into his own mind. He fought it, but it was like trying to climb a slick wall with nothing but his fingertips.

The next thing he realized was that he was pulled against a warm body, arms wrapped around him as they rocked slowly. Whispered words—his name, phrases, pleadings—were what started to bring him back.

That and the smell, the scent. Rodney.

John curled into his lover, pressing his face into Rodney's body. He heard someone whimper, and realized a few moments later that it was him.

"It's okay, John. I'm here. I'm safe."

"Couldn't stop them. I'm so sorry..." He whispered it into Rodney's chest.

"I'm here. Nothing to be sorry about—apart from horribly wrinkling my uniform…" He broke off and John heard him sigh. "I am being nice."

John feebly tried to smooth the fabric under his face without lifting his head. "Sorry..."

"It's fine. The wrinkles will come out eventually."

Slowly, John tuned back in to the world. He realized he was being held tightly, and was gripping Rodney so hard he was probably leaving bruises. "What happened?" He couldn't work up the energy to do more than whisper.

"I'd like to know, actually," Rodney said quietly.

He frowned, trying to remember. Then his eyes widened and he turned his head, feeling himself go bright red when he caught not only Kate, but also Carson, watching him. "Oh... Um... Hi?"

Kate's smile was warm as she approached slowly. "You back with us, John?"

"I...think so." He was pretty sure now was when he was supposed to get up from where he had essentially climbed into the lap of the chief scientist, but he just gripped harder. He could still feel the edges of memory hovering close, ready to pull him back in. "Not... Sorry. I didn't… It hadn't ever been that bad before."

"Figured as much," she said, sitting on the edge of the opposite chair. "I didn't think I would drop you into a flashback like that. I'm sorry." She paused, glancing down for a moment. "And I apologize for intruding on your personal life. That was not my intention."

"I... You didn't know. That it would affect me like that, or about... this." He sighed, giving up on dignity and resting his head back against Rodney's chest. God, he was tired.

"John, I’m going to prescribe you twenty milligrams of Paxil. It's a slow-release tablet that I think will help you deal with some of the symptoms you're experiencing. It won't make you groggy and you can still work while taking it. Carson agrees."

He started to shake his head, unconsciously moving closer to Rodney. "No, I don't like—"

"Just take the damn pill," Rodney hissed.

He closed his eyes, trying not to shake. "Can't fly if I'm on medication..."

Carson stepped forward. "You're not flying anywhere right now and it's only for a short time so you can get some of this under control, lad."

"I hate PTSD." He sighed, but opened his mouth without opening his eyes, trusting Rodney to take care of it while he couldn't. He knew that, no matter what the reasons were, if he was handed a pill he would find a way to get rid of it without taking it. It was a habit so ingrained he didn't think he could stop it.

Rodney sighed loudly, but John felt a pill get dropped on his tongue. A glass touched his bottom lip a moment later. "Drink and swallow."

He did as he was told, leaning more into Rodney. Despite the huff, his lover's arms tightened around him. "So what now? As much as I'd like to say this was a one-time thing, more and more has been tossing me into these damn flashbacks, and now we know I can get lost in them..." He shuddered, as the pain and fear and worry started to try and surface again.

"The Paxil will help make them less intense and give you a little more control," Kate said.

"How long until I don't need it, and don't have them anymore?"

"That depends entirely on you. There's no hard and fast rule. Everyone's different, John," Carson said, moving a few steps closer. "But you and Kate will also need to work through some of your more pressing issues."

"Working through my issues was what caused this, this reaction in the first place." It was without heat. He was just so fucking tired. He wanted to curl u p with Rodney and sleep, and sleep, and sleep...

"Torture is what caused this," Kate pointed out. "And I think it might be a good idea to get some dinner and get an early night. You can use the sleep. We'll set an appointment for tomorrow afternoon."

Tilting his head up, John looked at Rodney. "You need to go back to the labs?"

"I was in the middle—"

"Rodney…" Carson growled.

Rodney's reply was immediate. "No, I don't have to go back to the labs."

Sighing, John loosened his grip on Rodney's thighs, rubbing the areas lightly with his thumbs. "It's okay, Carson. I know he has things he needs to take care of." Even if all he really wanted was to spend the night being held. God, now in addition to being hormonal, he was clingy, too. He decided he hated himself, just a little bit.

"I said I didn't have to go back to the labs," Rodney hissed, attempting to keep his voice down.

"Okay." John tried not to let his relief show too much, but he couldn't help it. He was trying to be strong, but it was like his own brain was conspiring against him.

"I'd recommend eating a good dinner and getting some rest. Things will look better in the morning," Kate said, gently resting a hand on John's arm.

He flinched, slightly this time, but he knew Rodney had felt it. "Right. I, ah, don't think I'm up for the mess. God, I really am fucking messed up in the head." He forced himself to sit up, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around his knees. "I'm sure I have an MRE or two in my quarters."

"Then I'm sure Rodney would be willing to get something from the mess for you," Carson said, his eyes pinning the scientist.

"Yes, fine. Whatever he wants, he'll get."

"Are the drugs you gave me supposed to make me feel this tired?" He lifted his hand, a bit startled by the sheer effort it took. "Because I'm not even sure I'm going to be able to get up off the floor without some serious help."

"It's part of your symptoms, unfortunately. It should come and go until it gets better." Kate was apologetic.

"Wow, this just keeps getting better. Mood swings, flashbacks, fatigue, cold sweats..."

"PTSD is fun, isn't it?" Carson asked quietly, helping John get up and into his wheelchair.

"And when you throw in the fact that I am ready to scream if I can't get up and move the way I want to..." He sighed, slumping into the chair. "I hate myself right now. Just so you all know. I really, really hate this."

"We know," Carson said quietly. "Just take it easy and Rodney said he'd take care of whatever you need tonight."

John caught Kate's eye and held it, as he suddenly realized he had basically outed them to her. "This all stays here, correct? The fact that I'm suffering from PTSD symptoms is something that's going to get out, and I can't help that. But the rest..."

"It's private and confidential and I have no reason to share it with anyone. And it may help me when I have to treat either of you." Kate smiled warmly. "We will get you back to normal, John. I promise."

He relaxed a bit. More than anything he was reassured by her smile. It was one thing to keep it a secret, but if your base psychologist had an issue with your orientation, it could have caused problems. But she seemed to be happy for them, if surprised. "Thanks."

"If you have any problems tonight—anything you feel you can't handle—call me immediately. Okay?"

"With a little luck, I'll be asleep within the next few hours." He ran a hand through his hair. "But I won't discount more nightmares. I probably should have told you, but I've been having them every night."

"I figured, but let's take things one step at a time. Okay?"

He nodded, then glanced at Rodney. "You my ride home?"

"Chauffeur, butler, maid…seems so."

"Staying the night?"

Rodney was quiet for a moment. "Whatever you want or need."

Since his lover was close enough, John reached out, lacing their fingers together for a moment, needing the connection. "Stay with me then. I'll sleep better."

McKay's face hardened slightly. "Whatever you want or need," he finally repeated.

John glanced over at Kate and Carson, who were watching them with interest. "Well then, Docs, I'll see you tomorrow I suppose. I know I have PT in the morning, but what time do I need to be back here?"

"Let's do 1500," Kate said.

"Yes, ma'am. And I promise I'll actually come. I can't be cleared to fly like this."

"I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good evening and rest."

He nodded again, and then Rodney was pushing him out. John pasted on a smile and exchanged pleasantries with the few people they passed in the halls. By the time they made it to his room, he was almost trembling with the effort.

Rodney moved slowly, cautiously, helping John to the bed and stuffing pillows under his back.

John kept a hand somewhere on his lover at all times, desperate for the connection. "Thank you."

"I should go and get you dinner," Rodney said, shifting so he was seated on the edge of John's bed.

"I know. I just... The flashback, the one I was caught in... It was you, and you were being hurt and I couldn't stop it. I just...need to reassure myself that you're really okay."

"I’m here. I'm fine."

John tugged him. "Kiss me."

"I don't think this is what they had in mind when they told me to make sure—"

"I'll rest, and I'll eat, just... kiss me first."

"John…"

John let some of his desperation show. "I need you, Rodney. I know you're pissed at me, but right now, I just need you."

McKay sighed. "I'm not pissed at you."

"You've been avoiding me. For whatever reason, I'm sorry."

"I've been working."

John didn't have the energy to argue the point. "Do you need to be working now? I...I want you to stay, but I know you have work you need to do. Just because I'm clingy, doesn't mean the city stops."

"Are you hard of hearing, too? I said I would do whatever you wanted."

Rodney's hand was the only thing close enough to touch, so John drew patterns on it with his finger. "I know. I just don't want you to stay because you feel like you have to. And yes, I know I'm acting like a teenage girl, and I really hate it, but I can't help myself."

"I said I would do whatever you needed," Rodney repeated quietly. "I don't go back on my word."

"Thank you." He whispered it, feeling some of the tension drain out of him.

Rodney fell into silence, watching John's finger tracing patterns on the back of his hand.

"Love you." John didn't look up, watching Rodney's strong fingers, wishing they were on his body.

"I know," Rodney said, continuing a few beats later. "Love you, too."

"I couldn't stop him." John didn't want to fall back into a flashback again, but he felt the need to tell his lover what had happened. "He was hurting you, and I couldn't stop it."

"I know. But I’m fine now."

"Heightmeyer thought I was angry at you and Lorne, because I was hurt more than you. But I'm not. I wouldn't change how it happened, if changing it meant you took some of the punishment."

Rodney shrugged. "You can be angry at me. You're allowed."

"But I'm not. I... I wanted you to know that. I was more concerned that they didn't hurt you. It was why I antagonized them, made them hurt me—I didn't want them to hurt you."

"And we all know how well that went over," Rodney muttered, shifting on the bed to rise to his feet. "What do you want for dinner?"

"Rodney...?"

"Dinner. I'm supposed to be getting you dinner."

John looked carefully at his lover, noting all the things he had glossed over before. "You're experiencing it too, aren't you? Maybe not to this degree, but you have PTSD, too, don't you?"

"Kate said I was fine," Rodney said, straightening up.

"I won't push it right now. Just... I tried ignoring it, and we see where that got me. I hope you won't let it get that bad." He sighed, wishing he could just fix this. "Whatever looks good in the mess is fine with me."

"Okay. I'll be back." Rodney rose to his feet and was gone a moment later, leaving John alone in his room.

He stared at the wall for a moment and then decided he really wanted a shower. The cold sweats had left him feeling sticky. He quickly stripped on the bed and then dragged himself into the shower. He sat on the floor once he got there, closing his eyes and letting the hot water wash over him.

The water helped, warming him from the outside in. But it wasn't until Rodney showed up—looking slightly panicked—did he realize how long he'd been. "What are you doing?"

"Hey. Getting clean. Strip and come join me."

"Dinner's going to get cold."

"S'okay. It won't be frozen, just not hot when we get done. Come wash my hair for me. Always feels good when you do it."

"But—"

John let his tone take on a note of command, the one Rodney always—well almost always—responded to. "Strip, Rodney. Come get in the shower with me."

He hesitated for a moment and John thought that he was going to refuse, but he started shrugging off his wrinkled shirt and jacket, his mouth a thin, tight line. Shoes, socks, pants, and boxers were dropped into the pile a minute later and then Rodney was stepping into the shower with him.

Since he didn't have the energy to stand, John shifted, resting his head against Rodney's thighs. "Hand me the washcloth? I can't reach all of you, but I'll do what I can."

"John, no." He slid down so he was on level with Sheppard, his eyes wide, pained.

"Why?" John leaned into him, wrapping his arms around Rodney.

"You don't have to. We need to get you better."

"This will help me get better. I would rather lose myself in you, than in bad memories."

Rodney sighed. "You just need to get better, stronger."

"I won't argue with that. But I can get better and love you at the same time. They aren't mutually exclusive." He didn't go for Rodney's lips just yet, choosing to nibble a little at the side of his neck.

He sighed again, lapsing into silence and submission—albeit reluctantly. It was a start.

Reaching up blindly, John managed to snag the shampoo bottle, although the rest of the shower accessories were out of reach. He squirted a little out into his hand and started to massage it into Rodney's hair. "I forget how much I like touching you. I go a few days without, and I start thinking I must have imagined how good it was—nothing could be this nice. And then I get you here, with me, and, wow, it really is that nice after all."

Rodney's eyes closed and he shifted to give John better access, a better angle, bumping knees and limbs in the process. "Sorry, sorry."

"Mmmm. S'okay." John's own eyes were half-closed as he relaxed, just enjoying being able to touch.

McKay was silent, letting John touch and caress, shifting him whenever he wanted.

John wiggled so he was sitting between Rodney's legs, sideways, with his lover's leg going over both of his. With a content sigh, he leaned in, putting his head on Rodney's shoulder. "Perfect."

"You can't be comfortable."

He pressed a kiss into Rodney's wet skin before smiling sweetly up at Rodney. He knew he had to look like a wreck, hair plastered to his head, eyelashes clumped with drops of water. "I'm just fine."

Rodney sighed. "We're sitting on the floor of the shower."

"But you're here. And at the risk of sounding even more pathetic than I've already been today, that's really all I need."

He didn't argue with John, simply letting out a breath of air and wiping some drops from his forehead.

John told the shower it could turn off. He rested his head back on Rodney's shoulder, tilting it so he could look up. "Better?"

Rodney shrugged. "My hair is clean and I’m wet."

"And you have an armful of needy pilot." John traced a hand down the part of Rodney's chest still visible swirling the wet hair into patterns, then smoothing them out again.

"And?"

"Just trying to give you pros to sitting on the shower floor."

He was silent for a minute. "Okay."

John sighed. "You're going to have to help me up."

"That's what I’m here for." Rodney shifted, untangling them and helping John to his feet. He ended up parking him on the bowl—with the lid closed— as he dug for a towel.

Now that they weren't under running water, John was cold. He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering.

Rodney wrapped a towel around him, rubbing to try to warm John up and get him dry. It only took a few minutes to get all of the wet spots and Rodney left him in the towel as he got himself dried off. "Dinner?"

"Okay." Because he did have some dignity—albeit not much at this point—he waited until Rodney turned around for something before pushing himself up and making an attempt to walk to the bedroom by himself.

"John, wait!"

He made the mistake of trying to half-turn, and nearly careened into the door frame. "Gah!"

Rodney caught him before he fell. "You're supposed to be careful!"

The frustration welled back to the surface, and he had to choke it back down. "I'm just so god-damned tired of not being able to walk across the room without collapsing."

"Stop pushing yourself."

"I want my life back."

"You'll get it back."

John let Rodney help him, sitting on the bed and making himself comfortable while Rodney got dinner. "Not fast enough. I'm just so tired. And so frustrated."

"I know. You'll get there."

"I really miss fucking you. Tying you to the bed and spending an hour driving you nuts before I finally take you, make you mine. When I'm not having nightmares, that's what I'm dreaming about."

Rodney was quiet for a moment. "I miss that, too."

"I don't suppose you'd let me put the vibrating cock ring on you, and a plug, tomorrow. Leave them on all day. Let me arouse you every time I think of you, give me something else to think about besides flashbacks?"

"Whatever you want, John."

"I want you."

Rodney's voice was quiet. "I’m here."

"Come here. Bring dinner and come eat it here with me. I need to touch you."

He nodded, moving slowly, carefully, deliberately around the room, gathering what he'd brought in for dinner. John pointed to the bedside table when he returned with the tray and then gestured for Rodney to sit on the bed.

John moved, so they were pressed together side to side. They ate in silence for a while, before John started pushing his food around on his plate. "You're really unhappy right now. What can I do to help?"

"I’m not. I just want you to get better." He didn't elaborate.

"I'm your lover, Rodney. And your top. I know your body language. You don't have to tell me what's wrong if you don't want to, but please don't lie to me."

That finally got a reaction, Rodney lifting his head, a tint of anger in his eyes. "Am I allowed to be upset because you were injured?"

"Yes. You are. Just don't lie to me about it." John let his hand rest on Rodney's thigh, squeezing slightly. "I'm sorry. I know I keep saying it, but I'm so sorry. I couldn't stop him, and I couldn't stop him from hurting you, or making you watch him hurt me."

"I know and it's fine. I just want you to be better." And there it was again—the stillness.

John sighed softly again. He just wasn't in any condition to push. If Rodney was still having trouble when he was better, he would deal with it then. "All right. Can we sleep now? I... I just want to sleep."

"You didn't finish eating," Rodney said pointedly ignoring his own half-full plate.

John pushed the food around a bit more. "I'll eat if you do."

"It doesn't taste right cold. Granted, it probably didn't taste much better hot."

He smiled a little. "Can I use that excuse, too?"

Rodney shrugged. "I guess."

"So let's snuggle and sleep."

McKay scooted off the bed, clearing off the dishes and putting them on the desk on the other side of the room. "I'm gonna pee. You need to go?"

"It sounds like too much effort." John had turned on to his side, curling slightly, to watch Rodney. His lover had a great ass.

From his position on the bed, John could watch him, too. He had the perfect view.

Rodney finished after a moment and then went through his usual night-time routine before stepping back into the room. "I could go…"

"Go where?"

"Back to my quarters. That is if you were okay."

John sat up, alarm suddenly thrumming through him. "No. Please, stay, I need you…"

"I'll just get in the way. I might hurt you. I—"

John wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly cold and shaking. "Don't leave me here. I can't... The flashbacks stay away..." He knew, intellectually, that mood swings and getting overwhelmed and frustrated were symptoms of PTSD. But experiencing them just sucked. He dragged in a breath. "You keep them away. I haven't slept in days, Rodney. Please... stay with me."

"I…" Rodney looked…scared, worried, overwhelmed…but he finally nodded. "Okay." He moved to the bed, sitting carefully on the edge.

John wrapped himself around Rodney's back, pushing his nose into the crook of his lover's neck. "I'm not going to break, Rodney. I'm fixed, just... no muscle tone, and some psychological issues. You won't hurt me."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I do. I'm not still in a wheelchair because I'm broken. I'm in it because my muscles won't support me right now."

Rodney sighed, but didn't comment further.

John nuzzled. "I promise. I won't ask you to do anything that will hurt me, and I'll tell you if you do. I just want to fall asleep in your arms."

Rodney's hand drifted to lie over John's hand where he had wrapped it around him. "…missed you."

John bit down softly on Rodney's shoulder, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to give Rodney the sensation. "Missed you, too."

He could feel the tension radiating off of the scientist, the slight tremble in his body.

"Neither of us is up for anything athletic tonight. But we both need a good night's sleep, and we both sleep better together. Relax, Rodney, and come to bed with me."

"Already here."

John scooted back, tugging on Rodney gently. "Lie down."

Rodney complied—without arguing this time—letting John arrange him, watching him with wide eyes the entire time.

John wrapped himself around Rodney, tangling their limbs together. He felt his body relaxing and sinking into the mattress as he thought the lights off. "Mmmm."

"Are you okay? I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"M'good. Comfy."

"You sure?"

"Mm'hmm. Sleepy."

"Oh." Rodney shifted, his body relaxing slightly. "Okay."

"Night..."

"Night."

He heard Rodney sigh again before drifting off, finding peaceful slumber for the first time in weeks. But then the oddest thing happened. He could have sworn someone was sucking his cock.

It was a really nice dream, full of hot, wet mouth and perfect suction to keep him on the edge, but not fall over. He canted his hips up, trying to thrust, but he was held in place, forced to just take the sweet, sweet sensations.

It continued like that for some time, building the arousal within, his fingers digging into the sheets and mattress in an effort to hold on.

He wasn't sure when the dream turned into reality. Slowly, he realized he wasn't dreaming, that Rodney was, in fact, going down on him. And oh god...

Rodney took him deeper still, John's cock brushing the back of his throat and Rodney was sucking and humming and…

Ohgodohgodohgod... John moaned, deep and loud, but just when he was about to come, Rodney backed off again. Bastard. "Rodney... oh fuck..."

Rodney pulled off completely, whispering. "Good. You're awake." A moment later and he swallowed John again, his finger brushing against the small patch of skin between his cock and ass.

With a strangled moan, John tried to thrust up again, but Rodney was still holding him down. "Let me come, please, oh fuck..."

He felt and heard Rodney's chuckle—dirty and deep—but he kept teasing him, ramping him up until it was finally too much to handle.

"I'm going to..." It was all the warning he could get out, his body exploding into orgasm, the world going bright and fuzzy around him. He slumped back into the mattress, panting hard. "Mmmmmmmmmm..."

Rodney eased him through the end of his orgasm before finally pulling off, licking him clean and pressing a kiss to the tip and the inside of John's thigh. The bed shifted and Rodney got up, John realizing vaguely that the scientist was completely dressed. "Have a good day, Sheppard."

"Wha... C'mere. Where're you going?"

"Some of us have work to do. Rest. You don't have to be anywhere for a while. I'll see you later." And without a backward glance, Rodney was gone, the doors sliding shut behind him.

John just looked at the door for a few minutes, eyes wide. Huh. Well that was an interesting way to start the day...

***

Lorne glanced at his watch and cursed to himself, hurrying his steps in order to make sure he made it to Sheppard's office before he had his afternoon appointment with Kate.

The grapevine had been pretty active the last few days, ever since the Colonel had apparently had some kind of a breakdown on one of the balconies with Beckett. If you listened to the rumor mill, he was going to be shipped back to Earth, he'd lost his mind, he was a danger to himself and others, he was medicated so heavily just so he could work…

And the list went on.

But, Sheppard had been pretty open with him the day after the "incident" had happened. Apparently some pretty hefty flashbacks from their time on the planet had resulted in him having daily sessions with Kate and a low dose of Paxil to help him work through PTSD.

Honestly, Evan wasn't surprised. In the weeks following the mission, he'd had a few sessions with Kate himself just to make sure what he was feeling was normal. After her assurances and a few talks, he'd managed to put it behind him.

Until now.

Now looking at Sheppard and knowing the kinds of flashbacks he was reliving—all because of him and McKay, of protecting them—it was a little harder to swallow.

Sighing, Lorne turned the corner spotting Sheppard's open office door. Good. He was still there.

He paused at the doorway, tapping on the edge to get Sheppard's attention.

John waved a hand, but didn't look up from his computer. "Gimmie a sec whoever you are. I need to get this done."

"Sure thing, sir."

Sheppard looked up, surprised. "Lorne. Didn't expect to see you. Have a seat. I'm almost done with this damn report."

"Finish what you need to," Evan said, stepping in and closing the door behind him. He let his eyes drift around the office, noting the wheelchair by the door and the nearly-drained pot of coffee on the small table behind Sheppard.

Sheppard worked for another five minutes, then hit something on the computer and sat back, scrubbing a hand across his face. "Thanks. So, what can I do for you?"

"Actually," Lorne started slowly, "I was hoping you'd have a few minutes to talk."

One eyebrow went up, but his CO nodded. "Sure. What's the problem?"

"I wanted to say that I…appreciate how open you've been about what's been going on with you. You didn't have to tell me anything, but I'm grateful that you trust me."

Sheppard shrugged. "You're my second in command, and I'm not exactly up to full duties at the moment. Not to mention," he shot Evan a wry smile, "I've heard some, if not all, of the rumors going around about me right now. I'd much rather you know the truth than guess. Plus, and I think I've said this before, I like you."

"Yes, you've mentioned that," Lorne said with a nod. "And I sincerely hope you haven't heard all the rumors. Some are…unique."

John started ticking things off on his fingers. "I've lost my mind, I'm being shipped back to Earth, I'm plotting to take over Atlantis, I'm faking, this is all a cover for an illicit affair I'm having with Elizabeth/Teyla/Ronon/you, I've been taken over by an alien consciousness, I've merged with the city somehow and it's controlling me, I'm never walking again, I can walk perfectly fine and the wheelchair is a play for sympathy..."

Evan chuckled. "Okay, so you've heard most of them."

Sheppard shrugged. "I've been the butt of rumors for a large part of my career. The only difference is that these are, in general, more creative. Comes from living in another galaxy in a small population made up of highly intelligent, highly bored, people. I ignore them for the most part."

"I do, too, except when they get to be a little too…" Evan waved his hand in an effort to find the word, "you know."

"Is this about the one that has us sleeping together? Because I promise, no one pays much attention to those. According to the gossip mill, I've slept with most of the base and half the indigenous populations. That stopped bothering me a long time ago."

"Nonono." Evan took a breath. This was harder than he thought. "I wanted to say that I was sorry."

Sheppard blinked. "Sorry? For what?"

"For this." Evan's hand waved in the air.

"My office? I've had this office since before you got here. Well, this one and a few others. I kind of miss my other offices, but it's just easier at the moment to stick to one.... And I'm rambling aren't I? Believe the PSAs Lorne—stay away from drugs at all costs."

Evan dropped his head to his chest, taking a moment. Once he glanced up again, he realized he had Sheppard undivided attention.

"Evan? What's the problem?"

"I'm sorry you had to do what you did on that mission. I should have done something else, something more."

John was quiet for a moment. "You have nothing to be sorry about. You didn't give the orders to torture me, and as I recall, you took some abuse yourself. And you were following orders—my orders—to be as unobtrusive as possible."

"But there was no need for you to—"

"I knew what I was doing." He didn't think he had ever heard his usually flippant commander sound so...understanding. "I couldn't predict exactly what would happen, but it was pretty obvious from the start that Milos wasn't going to hold back. I made the decision to take as much of it as I could to spare my team. You have nothing to be sorry about."

"I should have been able to do something more, sir." Evan was firm.

"Like what? Taken more of the abuse? Odds are good I would have been just as injured, and you would have been right there with me. Then we'd both be suffering from flashbacks. You did the best you could in a bad situation."

"Who says I'm not?" he snorted, running a hand over his face.

Sheppard was immediately sitting forward, his entire demeanor intense. It was...a little disconcerting to be the focus of that much scrutiny, and who knew John Sheppard was capable of that? Some of those other rumors about Sheppard and some of the things he had done to protect Atlantis—and get the black mark—were starting to look more plausible. "Are you?"

Lorne shrugged. "If I wasn't I'd definitely need to check myself into one of those padded rooms. It's nowhere are severe as yours, and Kate's been helpful. I’m still caught up in a lot of the 'what ifs', I guess."

John sighed. "I'm sorry. I had hoped to spare you the brunt of that. But if it helps, you did exactly what I wanted you to. I would rather take the abuse than allow my people to take it. Period. End of story."

"I understand that, sir, but it still doesn't mean you should."

Evan knew he was being watched carefully, and got the impression not much was getting past Sheppard. He had forgotten that the man was scary smart, even if he hid it most of the time. "Are you upset because I took the brunt of the torture, or because I'm having issues dealing with it after the fact?"

"Honestly?" At Sheppard's nod, he continued. "Both."

"I know I can't just order you not to worry about it. Well, I could, but it would be a little pointless. But does it help to know that I don't blame you—or McKay for that matter? Yeah, I fucking hate PTSD, but I would much rather it was me dealing with it than you."

"I still wish there had been something more I could have done."

"Like what? Gotten your own limbs snapped? Taken more of a beating? How would that have changed anything?"

"I don't know!" Lorne said, his voice rising in volume. "If I knew that do you think I'd be beating myself up about it?"

Sheppard just watched him. "I forgive you—forgave you even as it was happening. I wouldn't be human if I said, at the time, that I wished it wasn't happening, especially not to me. But I knew there was nothing you could have done to stop it. Milos wanted to break me. Pain was the first step. From the way he was eyeing me... I doubt it would have stopped there, or stopped at all, until I gave him what he wanted. You were an end to his means, in a way."

Lorne sighed, suddenly tired. "Doesn't make it easier."

"I know." John ran a hand through his hair. "Nothing is really going to make it easier. I wish I could tell you differently. And believe me, I'm struggling with the same thing right now. But at the end of the day, we have to move forward and let the past go. It happened, and we can't change it."

"I know. It's just scary that McKay seems to be handling it better than we are and we were trained for it."

Sheppard snorted. "He's handling it differently, but I wouldn't call it better. Plus, he wasn't there for all of it. He has his own set of issues to deal with. You have nothing to feel guilty or inadequate about. You did a good job out there, and you're doing a good job coming to terms with it now."

"Thanks, sir, but I didn't really come here looking for your approval. I just wanted to tell you that I was sorry."

Sheppard's grin turned a little wry again. "We're all looking for approval, Lorne—whether we know it or not. But while I still say you have nothing to be sorry about, if it helps, you are forgiven."

Evan nodded. "Thanks, sir." He took a breath, relaxing a little in the guest chair. "So I heard you're attempting a team night tonight."

John groaned. "Attempting is the key word. Getting Dex and McKay into the same room together is proving difficult, not the least of which is because they are both really good at avoiding me. I had to play the trump card and get Teyla to guilt them for me."

Lorne chuckled. "And it worked?"

"If you see Teyla coming at you with a gleam in her eye, run. Run as fast and as far as you can. She can make you feel guilty as hell, and afterwards you have no clue why."

"Need me to frog-march McKay there?"

John laughed, and Evan realized he hadn't actually heard that sound from his CO in a while. "While the mental image is tempting, I doubt that will fix the problem I'm trying to solve."

"True, but it would get him there."

"Getting him there isn't the problem, really. It's getting him to stay, and then getting him and Dex to be on speaking terms again. They are both part of my team, which can't function if they can't spend thirty seconds in the same room. If you have suggestions, I'd be more than happy to hear them."

"Getting him to stay is easy. Gag him and tie him to a chair. The talking part is harder."

Sheppard chuckled again. "Should I be worried that you seem to have a kinky streak in you, Lorne? Manhandling, bondage, gags..."

Lorne shrugged, keeping a straight face. "Sometimes you do what you have to, sir.

The other man nodded, winking. "Too true."

This time Evan let his gaze slide away. "Well, you have an appointment to get to."

"I was trying to forget about that. Meeting with Kate is a necessary evil, but I reserve the right to not enjoy it." Sheppard sighed softly. "Although I am being told I'm making good progress, anything less than being back to full health is...frustrating."

"From what I can see—and I'm not kissing up," Evan said standing and moving toward the door, "you are."

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Thanks. It doesn't make me any less frustrated, but hearing it from someone other than a doctor whose job it is to make sure I don't slit my own wrists is always nice."

"And please don't do that. I don't want your job."

Standing, John stretched a little before eyeing the wheelchair with active distaste. "I'll keep that in mind when they let me play with sharp objects again."

"Want a ride?"

Sheppard sank into the chair, and it was obvious he was trying to hide some of that frustration he had mentioned. "When I'm finally free of this thing, I'm throwing it off the damn pier."

"Eh, it's my turn next, so let's hang onto it."

"So burning it first is out of the question then? Taking it up in a jumper and releasing it into space?"

"Unfortunately, sir," Lorne said, taking hold of the wheelchair handles and maneuvering Sheppard out of his office, "we're probably going to need it again."

"Bite your tongue, Lorne. If I never see this damn chair again, it will be too soon. I swear, Beckett is still insisting on it because he is a sadistic bastard. If I stop to rest, I can make it pretty far on my own now, but he threatened me with restraints again if he catches me out without it."

"If you take it easy now you won't have to worry about your legs giving out in the field."

Sheppard half-turned to look back at him, giving Evan a suspicious look. "He recruited you, didn't he?"

"Nope. I've been through this before."

"So have I, but that doesn't mean I don't chafe at the restrictions." Sheppard slumped back again. He was quiet until they passed the jumper bay. Evan saw the way his eyes locked on the aircraft and his expression took on a sense of longing. Being grounded was about the worst thing you could do to a pilot sometimes.

"Have you talked to Kate about flying yet?"

"While they have me on the Paxil, it's against regs."

"I'll take you up if you want."

"Will you let me do any of the flying?" Sheppard's voice was carefully neutral, although he was still looking back at the bay, his body unconsciously leaning towards it.

"What happens up there doesn't need to be reported, does it?"

John sucked in a deep breath. His voice was quiet, and full of something. "Thank you. This afternoon work for you?"

"As long as you can get Kate to approve it, sure."

"She will. I'll meet you in the bay at," he glanced at his watch, "1600?"

"Whenever you're ready. Apart from some paperwork, it's a quiet afternoon."

They had arrived at Heightmeyer's office. Sheppard stood up, flashing a grateful smile at Lorne. "I'll radio you if it changes."

"Just call when you're ready to go." Lorne offered a smile. "I'll see you later."

Sheppard nodded, then stepped into the office. Evan heard him greeting the psychologist, and he actually sounded like he was in a better mood.

Nodding to himself, Evan turned and headed down the hall. He had a few things to do before their expedition this afternoon. It would be good for both of them.

***

As Lorne flew back to the city—they did have to maintain the fiction that John hadn't flown after all—John leaned back, still smiling. Around him, even though he wasn't the one flying, he could feel the craft, welcoming him, comforting him.

God, he had missed flying.

Lorne had given him some odd looks when John took over, but at the time he had been too absorbed in the enthusiasm of the jumper to pay much attention to it. "Thanks again. I needed this."

Evan smiled easily. "Seems like you did, sir. Glad to help."

He grinned. Lorne was a pilot himself, so he had just grinned when John had immediately started swooping and dancing the craft across the sky. "They should let us up to fly for pleasure more often. We'd all be a lot less stressed."

"Somehow I doubt that will be possible," he said, already concentrating on the landing in the jumper bay.

"It's a nice dream though." As soon as they were down, John stood, stretching.

"You need me for anything else, sir? A McKay frog march or anything?"

John laughed softly. "Nah, although I appreciate the thought. I'll keep it in mind if he proves especially stubborn though."

Lorne glanced over his shoulder in the middle of his shut down procedures. "I'll keep my radio on."

Still laughing, John triggered the back of the jumper, stepping out when it was down. He wondered how far he could get before someone called him on not being in the chair...

Carson Beckett was standing at the door to the bay, his hands crossed over his chest.

Well, so much for that. John made an attempt to saunter. "Hey, Doc."

"Heard you got permission for a flight. How are you doin', lad?" Carson's eyes were checking him over, evaluating John as he walked toward him.

"Just went up with Lorne. And not bad." He was getting stronger. He knew he wouldn't be able to walk anywhere far yet, but he could at least get out of the jumper, and stand for a few minutes on his own, not to mention move around small rooms, like his quarters or office, without too much trouble.

"Hyland said you were doing well."

"Better. I won't be well until I don't need the chair at all." He walked the short distance with Beckett to where it was parked, and eyed it with distaste. "And that can't come soon enough for me."

"I think he wants to start you on the treadmill soon."

John perked right up. "Jogging?"

Carson nodded, offering a smile. "Want to walk to your quarters? We'll just bring the chair just in case."

"I think I might love you." John set a slow pace, not wanting to overdo it, and wanting to enjoy the freedom to walk where he wanted.

"That remains to be seen," Carson said quietly, obviously watching John carefully as he pushed the empty chair. "I know you don't believe us, but you really are getting stronger."

"I know. I'm just impatient." John shrugged, then decided to change the subject. "So what else is new? I'm behind on all the good gossip."

"You are most of the gossip, actually. That and McKay is terrorizing his staff, but that's nothing new."

John shook his head. "Lorne and I talked about the rumors this morning. People will believe what they want to; in time they'll figure out the truth. How is Rodney? He's been mostly avoiding me, when he can."

Carson shrugged. "Fine as far as I can tell."

"Is he avoiding you, too?"

"Honestly, I’ve been busy. I haven't gone out of my way to check on him."

John raised an eyebrow. "When you get busy, usually its because something bad has happened."

"I'm actually working on some research. I'm trying to engineer a Wraith retro virus."

John stopped, his eyes wide. "A what?"

"I believe the Wraith are an unnatural state. By introducing a retro-virus into them, I think I can turn off the Wraith characteristics within their genetic code. Much in the same way we can activate the Ancient gene in some people."

"O...kay. But why would you want to? What good would it do?"

"If we can suppress the Wraith part of the gene-code, they should lose the desire and necessity to feed."

"Then what?" They had started walking again. "They would be, what, human? Hybrids?"

"If there was no Wraith left, yes, they'd be human."

"Huh. What would we do with them? That would be hundreds of new people. Would they remember being Wraith?"

"I don't know. I’m still working on the virus part, but it could be promising. If we could change all of the Wraith to humans…It would certainly be better for everyone."

"Well, that's one way to neutralize the threat. If nothing else, humans are easier to kill than Wraith."

"But if they have no memory…why kill them at all?"

"Can you guarantee they won't have any memory? And will the change be permanent?" John shook his head. "Those are all questions we'll have to deal with when and if you manage to create it."

"And we will, but let's wait until I get to that point."

"I couldn't agree more. We can't start making plans until we have a weapon and know how it works."

"Aye. I know." Carson started pushing the chair again as they continued walking toward John's quarters. "But think of the lives that could be saved."

He nodded. "Eliminating the Wraith as a threat to this galaxy would be huge. It would affect literally billions of people on thousands of planets. More if you factor in upcoming generations who won't ever know the threat at all."

"Aye," Carson said quietly. "I know."

John patted the other man on the arm. "Don't push yourself too hard. If you can come up with something we can use, great. If not, it was a good idea."

"We'll see," Carson said. "And here we are. You feeling okay?"

John did a quick personal inventory. "A little tired, legs are a little sore, but no more so than if, say, I had just been trying to keep up with Dex on a hard run around the city."

"Good. If you take it easy you can probably ditch the chair."

John shot his doctor and friend an incredulous look. "Really? I don't need it anymore?"

"If you're feeling weak, use it. Don't push yourself, but aye, I think you should be okay. Hyland agrees."

John closed his eyes, letting his relief wash over him. Being free to walk around on his own would go a long way towards his recovery, he knew. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. You did all the hard work. Just take it easy, but keep it up."

"I will." John shot the other man a genuine smile. "I think I'll go surprise, McKay. I miss lurking in the labs."

"I said not to push it."

"I'll slouch and lean a lot."

Carson chuckled and shook his head. "Just take it easy."

"Sir, yes sir." John gave him a crisp salute.

He laughed again as he moved away. "Have a good evening, John."

"You, too, Carson."

John moved into his room, cleaning up a bit and resting some. Rodney had been joining him for short dinners, so he decided to go collect his geek instead—that way they could eat and then head to team night together.

He kept his pace slow on the walk to the labs, but was just happy to be walking again. Slipping in to the science section, he quickly spotted Rodney. Instead of immediately announcing himself, John leaned against the door frame and allowed himself the luxury of just watching his lover.

Rodney was working on something, scowling at the screen as his fingers plucked away at the keyboard. But every now and then he'd stiffen and glance up, looking over his shoulder before turning back to his project, rubbing the back of his neck absently.

He tapped his radio at one point, barking into it. "Radek, where's that calculation I wanted? I don't care what else you're working on…yes, fine. Make it three minutes." He clicked off, shaking his head.

John moved silently, coming up behind his lover. Since the labs were a public place, he didn't press his lips to Rodney's neck, but he did hone in on the knotted muscles and start to knead them. "Hey."

For a second John swore he was going to get an elbow in his gut from the way Rodney tensed and jumped, but thankfully he stopped before making contact. "What? What are you doing here?"

"Wow, you've got to be in a world of pain. You should have said something. These muscles are like bow-strings." John continued to rub and massage, trying to loosen them up. "But as to your question, Beckett told me that as long as I take it easy, I don't have to use the damn chair anymore. So I came to find you for dinner and team night."

"Oh…about that…"

"You aren't backing out on me, are you? My first team night since recovery?"

Rodney's hands waved to the computer screen. "I'm in the middle of fifteen things and no one seems to actually want to work, so I have to hound them to get me what I need and—"

John pressed on a particularly tense muscle, getting a startled groan. "And it will all still be here tomorrow. You need the break."

"I need to finish this. It's important."

"What is it? Can I help?"

"No, you can't help. Mostly it's all theoretical astrophysics. Carter could barely help."

"I was thinking more along the lines of looking at the equations for you. I can at least check the math so you don't have to."

Rodney shook his head, groaning and flinching as John hit another knot. "No. I’m fine."

"Okay. But I really do want you to come to team night. At least do dinner with me, and come hang out with us for a little while? You can always come back after, and you do need to eat."

Rodney tapped his earpiece. "McKay here. Yes. Yes, or course I mean it. Did you think I was joking? When have you seen me joke about anything like this? Yes. Fine. McKay out." He sighed. "Dinner is fine."

John moved out from Rodney's neck, to his shoulders, which were just as tense. "I know you have things you have to do, but I hate seeing you this stressed when there isn't a current crisis."

"I'm always stressed."

"Not this badly."

Rodney shifted, turning around to face John. "Did you want to do dinner or not?"

"Yes. I'm hungry—I just had a light lunch, since I took a Jumper out with Lorne this afternoon for a quick flight." John leaned against the work table, and grinned to himself when he caught Rodney admiring the lines of his body, despite himself it would seem.

"So let's do dinner."

Pushing off, John strode to the door, pausing when he realized Rodney wasn't following him. "Coming?"

Rodney was looking past him for a moment, but he finally nodded, snapping back. "Yes yes. Dinner."

"Rodney? Are you okay?"

"Yes, fine. Why wouldn't I be fine? I’m busy and I work with idiots."

John looked at him very carefully. He had a few suspicions, based on the way Rodney had looked. But so far every attempt to get his lover to talk had gotten him no where. Now that he had some stamina back, it was time to arrange for some time to tie the stubborn physicist down and get some answers. But that was for later. "Just checking. Let's go eat."

"Finally," Rodney huffed, brushing by John.

"Hey! Wait up! I'm allowed to wander on my own, but I still have to move kinda slow."

"Oh," Rodney said, turning as he slowed, waiting for John to catch up. "So this is new."

John sighed. "Progress though. At least I can move around on my own. And the more I move, the faster I'll get all my muscle tone back. Carson said they plan to start me on the treadmill soon—I really miss jogging."

Rodney snorted. "Ah, yes, the running from angry natives. Always good to keep up the stamina."

John chuckled. "Well, I don't miss that sort of jogging. I was thinking more along the lines of my morning run. I haven't gotten out to see the sunrise over the pier in a while now."

"You could walk there you know…or at the very least roll there." Rodney waved his hand in front of the transporter panel and the doors slid open a moment later, two scientists emerging from the device. They did a double take at McKay, but he either didn't see it or ignored it.

John winked at them, wondering what was up. But he kept most of his focus on Rodney. "Until now I couldn't walk there. And being rolled there defeats the purpose. The sunrise is my reward for getting up and jogging."

"Oh." Rodney shrugged. "Avoiding angry natives is usually a good incentive for me."

"And I won't disagree with you there. But I still prefer my running to be something pleasurable. I'm still holding out hope that one day I can get you to come with me."

"I have an entirely different view of pleasure."

John leered a little. "Not going to argue with that either. Speaking of which, now that I'm on the mend, when can you take a night off?"

"I'm not sure," Rodney said as they stepped out of the transporter into the mess hall. "I have so many projects in the air right now."

"See if you can clear some time." John grinned at him. He looked up as a group of Marines were descending on them. Almost unconsciously he took a half-step back, closer to Rodney. He covered by plastering on an easy smile. "Evening guys, ma'am."

He got answering "Sirs" in reply although one of them seemed to regard McKay for a little longer than necessary.

"What can I do for you this evening?" He managed to get the entire group moving towards the food line.

"Simply glad to see you up and about, sir," the captain replied—William Adams, John thought. These were some of the new recruits.

"It's good to finally be up and about. A word of advice you guys—try to avoid massive injuries whenever possible. Recovery's a bitch."

"That's always part of the plan, sir." Another one replied this time, but John wasn't sure of the name. Rodney was several paces ahead of the group, having slipped away to get food. "The real problem are the scientists."

John blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Nothing."

John narrowed his eyes. "All right, I don't know what's going on here, but our first, and primary, responsibility on this base is to protect the civilians. I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for two civilians and their quick thinking—McKay and Parrish."

He saw Rodney's head perk up when he heard his name and he turned a questioning look on John.

He looked around at the Marines. "I'm going to get some dinner. Dismissed."

The group looked startled for a minute, but they quickly got the message, moving away. Rodney took a step toward John, a half-filled tray in his hands. "Do I want to know what just happened?"

John watched them leave, then shook his head. "Probably not. What's for dinner?"

"Mystery meat one and two. The first has citrus."

"I'll take two then." John grabbed a tray for himself, but he was more than a little distracted now. How many of the people under his command felt that way?

They moved through the line silently, finally grabbing a table on the outer balcony. "I’m guessing something happened," McKay finally said. "Flashback or something?"

He shook his head. "No. Just a little attitude problem I didn't know we had. I'm going to have to do something about it, and I don't know what, or how widespread it is."

Rodney's mouth set in a thin line as he picked through his food. "Let me guess. The Marines don't like the scientists."

"Pretty much. I'm hoping it's isolated."

"Doubtful." Rodney popped a cherry tomato in his mouth.

"I know none of our original people felt that way. It's just the new personnel."

"I've noticed."

John poked at his food. "They come from the SGC—were screened by them—how did people with attitude problems get through?"

"It's different there. A lot of teams are strictly military and the US government runs things." Rodney shrugged. "You get used to it."

"You shouldn't have to get used to it. I don't know how many times I can say this is a civilian outpost before people start believing me. We're here to protect you guys, not run the show."

"Until you're blue in the face, I imagine," Rodney said, taking a bite of his dinner. "You yelling at them is not going to change the way they think. When someone has something in their mind, it's pretty hard to change."

"And it's counter-productive here." John ran a hand across his face before dropping his fork and slumping into the chair. "God, I really didn't want to deal with this kind of thing."

Rodney glanced up, his face strangely neutral. "Welcome to my world."

"If you or any of your staff have been harassed, I'm so sorry. Circulate it around that I won't tolerate that sort of thing, but I can't do anything unless someone files a complaint I can act on."

"It won't change things." Rodney's tone was matter-of-fact as he turned back to his food. "It just goes to prove the single-mindedness of the military mindset."

He shook his head, leaning forward. He knew his expression had gone intense. "No. I won't accept that. I'm the commander of the military contingent of this base, and that means anyone who doesn't understand and abide by why we're here doesn't stay here. I will send anyone who harasses civilians home. I can't change their minds, no, but I'll be damned if I'll allow them to act out."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Yesyesyes. You are the alpha male and they will all listen to you."

"I know you don't really understand what you call the military mindset, and most of the time, I agree with your opinions about it. But in this case—yes. They _will_ follow my orders, and they _will_ conduct themselves how I see fit, or I will send them home. End of story. I'm pretty lenient overall as a commander, but I won't sit by and let my people be harassed. And the civilians are as much my people as the soldiers. We're all Lanteans now."

"Who exactly are you trying to give the pep talk to? Yourself?"

"Maybe."

McKay rolled his eyes again and went back to attacking his food. "And speaking of 'conducting themselves as you see fit', I’m still waiting to hear from Lorne about my slap on the wrist."

"Won't be one."

"Really?" Rodney's eyebrow rose, but he didn't glance up. "Some of that preferential treatment, eh?"

"No." John sighed, hoping this wasn't going to piss Rodney off again. "You're recovering from a trauma, same as Lorne, Parrish and I. And that's what's going in the official record—for all of us."

Rodney glanced up and rolled his eyes again. "Very convenient isn't it? So the next time I feel like chewing out a Marine I'll make sure to have been tortured recently. Good plan."

John lowered his voice and his eyes. "I've watched you have flashbacks. And since I've been getting them too, I know what to watch for. And I know how...easy...it is to get angry, to swing on that pendulum. I haven't made a big deal of it—haven't even told Kate I suspect you've got PTSD, too—but I know that's what you're dealing with."

"I'm fine Sheppard. Clean bill of health from Carson and Kate."

"Right after we got back, yes. The symptoms of this don't show up sometimes for weeks afterward—like mine. I know Lorne's been seeing Heightmeyer, and I've seen Parrish lurking around her office, too. To some degree, we've all got symptoms. Hence the official note in our records."

Rodney absently waved his hand, turning back to his food. "Project all you want. I'm fine."

With another sigh, John went back to poking at his food. He wasn't expecting anyone to come up behind him, so when a hand dropped to his shoulder, he nearly leapt out of his skin, heart ramping up to an insane degree.

"Colonel, I am sorry to have startled you," Teyla said quietly, moving around so John could see her.

He took a few deep breaths. "Teyla. No, sorry, my fault. Have a seat." John waved her down, trying to shake off the adrenaline. At least it hadn't tossed him into a flashback. That was something.

"I did not mean to intrude on your meal. I just wished to confirm the time for tonight's entertainment."

"Yeah, in about a half-hour. Rodney, you're coming, right?" John glanced over and caught his lover giving him an odd look. "What?"

"I thought we were just having dinner."

"Well, you and I are yeah. But I was hoping you would come with me to team night after. You are part of our team..."

"And I have work to do."

John shot a look at Teyla, silently asking her to help.

"And I wish to spend time with you," Teyla said quietly, a smile on her face. "I have not had the opportunity to do so since you returned from Earth."

John wanted badly to reach out and touch Rodney, but he knew the mess wasn't the place. "I miss all of us hanging out together. We all used to make time in our schedules for team night. What happened?"

"Some of us have work to do," Rodney grumbled.

"You haven't used that excuse since...since about six months in to our occupation of Atlantis." John wondered if it was him. If maybe now that they were back, Rodney didn't want to do the relationship thing anymore. He got a cold lump in his stomach.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "You were in my labs before we came to dinner. Did I or did I not say that I was currently juggling several projects?"

John sighed. "Fine. Teyla, I'll meet you down there in a bit. McKay, I'll see you...whenever. Sorry to have wasted your time." He knew it was irrational, but he stood, dumping his almost full tray and heading out. He figured he would hit his room and change into civvies before going to watch the movie.

John didn't know what upset him more: the fact that McKay was giving him a hard time about spending time together or that he didn't follow after him.

When he got to his room, he sat down heavily on the bed. He dropped his head into his hands, trying to get control of himself. God, this was what the end of a relationship felt like. Fuck fuck fuck. The best thing that had ever happened to him, and he had let it slip away.

His door chime startled him.

It took real effort to gather himself before he triggered the door. "Hello?"

"Colonel Sheppard?" Teyla was standing at his door, looking concerned.

"Teyla. I'm coming, sorry. I came back to change. What time is it? How late am I?" He turned to dig through his drawers, pulling out jeans and a t-shirt. Rodney's eyes the first time John had worn them for him flashed through his memory, and god... this really sucked.

"I have told Ronon that we are delaying movie night for an hour."

"Oh. Ah, okay. Good..." He took a deep breath a put on a casual smile before he turned back around. "I promise, I won't be late again."

"Do you wish to speak about Rodney?"

"Nope." Not at all. He needed to get his own head around it first.

"He is in pain, John, and lashing out at everyone and everything."

John sat down again. "I know. But he's made it pretty clear he doesn't want me to interfere, or even get close."

"I did not take you for someone who gave up so easily."

He dropped his head into his hands. "It's been weeks, and even when I have gotten him alone, it's been—almost perfunctory. He turns away, and has made it pretty clear he doesn't really want me to touch him, that's he's doing it because I felt like shit and he was humoring me. I don't know about you, but there's only so many times I can be rejected or made to feel as if I'm being pitied—not to mention shot down altogether—before I get the hint."

Teyla moved closer, putting her hand on his arm. "Then you must change his mind."

"You don't think I've tried? Hell, I got accused of molesting him when I tried to push the issue, and he walked away pissed off." He knew she could feel his tremors. "As much as I hate to say it, he's made it pretty clear he doesn't want me anymore."

"When was that?"

"Over the last several weeks."

"No," she said shaking her head. "When did he say you were…molesting him?"

"He was angry. I didn't realize it at the time, but he tried to safeword. Fucking safeword. Because I wanted to hold him for a minute." He swallowed. "Let's face facts. I blew it. I lost him."

"And this…safeword…what does it mean?"

He gave a short bark of almost hysterical laugher. "It's what some people use in...kinky...situations. To let the other person know they aren't comfortable. We've never used them, Teyla. Never. And he tried to use one on me because I wanted to hold him."

"But why would he use it? Was he uncomfortable?"

"He used it because he didn't want me to touch him. And still doesn't. He flinches every time I try."

"Why was he uncomfortable?"

"I have to assume it's because he doesn't want to be with me, but didn't want to break it to me while I was injured." He lifted his head, looking at her. "Look, can we just forget about it? We'll go to movie night, tomorrow I'll let him know its okay if he wants to leave me, and then we'll all...I don't know, pretend him and I never happened." And if he died a little inside, well, no one needed to know that.

"Did you not even bother to ask why he was uncomfortable?"

"It wasn't just that one time, Teyla. He's pulled away every time I've tried to reach out to him."

"I am simply attempting to ascertain why you believe Rodney not to care for you any longer and why you seem to wish him to leave."

He glared a little. "I don't want him to leave! I can just take a fucking hint when I've been hit over the head with it."

"No, John. To me it seems as if you are willing to let him go without a fight."

"I've been fighting. For four god-damned weeks I've been fighting, even though I feel like shit and I can barely take care of my-fucking-self."

"While I had wished Rodney would reach out to you more, I still find it hard to believe that you are willing to let him go so easily, especially after what he has done for you."

He slumped down. "What else am I supposed to do? I've tried Teyla. He was even the first person I went to when I was allowed to get around without the chair. He avoids me, makes up excuses, and when I try to push, he just gets pissed. What the hell am I supposed to do?"

"Confront him. Ask him about Milos."

"I've tried."

Teyla shook her head. "So you will simply give up?"

"How many times do I need to get shot down before I accept reality? Do I want to lose him? No, he's the best fucking thing that's ever happened to me. But I'm not stupid enough to try to force myself on someone."

"John, you know I only wish you happiness, do you not?"

He sighed, the fight going out of him. "Yes, of course. You're like the sister I never had."

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life."

Teyla nodded. "And your heart?"

He closed his eyes before nodding slightly. "Surprisingly, yes."

"Then go to him. It does not need to be now, but go to him."

He took a deep breath. "All right. I'll...give it one more try. How long do I have until we start the movie?"

She shook her head. "For this, you do not have time now. It should not be hurried."

Taking another deep breath, he stood up. "Tomorrow then. Lemme get changed, and let's go introduce Ronon to Earth movies." Even though, without Rodney, it wouldn't be nearly as much fun.

She moved toward the door, her parting words quiet. "There is more that occurred during the mission than is written in the official reports. However, it is not my place to speak of such things. You must go to the source. Only then will you know what sacrifices have been made in your behalf. Consider that before you make any decisions."

He widened his eyes in shock, but before he could ask her what she meant, she was gone. Shaking his head, he changed into his jeans and sauntered down to the entertainment room where they screened movies. Ronon and Teyla were already there, so John claimed the corner of the couch he usually shared with Rodney, slumping down into it. He made an effort to smile. "So, we ready?"

"In a moment," Teyla said. "I believe we still have others joining us."

"Others? Who else is coming? I thought it was just the team?" Rodney had made it pretty clear he wasn't coming...

The door to the room picked that moment to open, revealing a slightly harried McKay. "Okay, Teyla, I'm here. Are you happy?"

John sat up, drinking in the sight. God, he was pathetic. But if this was going to be the last time he could look as a lover, he wasn't going to miss it. His smile turned genuine. "Hey, buddy! Glad you decided to join us after all!"

Rodney's eyes drifted from Teyla to John, a smile growing on his face until he saw Ronon. "What is he doing here?"

John glanced over, then blinked. "He's part of our team, too—"

"Oh, no, he's not."

"Rodney—"

"I will not go off-world with that hulking barbarian. End of story."

John shot an apologetic look at Ronon before turning back to Rodney. "Look, I know you guys got off to kind of a rough start. He's really sorry, and it won't happen again."

"You better believe it won't. If he's on the team, I'm off." Rodney's face was flushed red with anger. "Find yourself another scientist."

"Rodney!" John started to stand, but the scientist had already turned and left the room. John shot a wild look in Teyla's direction.

She nodded. "Go. We shall find something to do."

With a nod, he was up and tracking his geek. He cursed his inability to move very fast as he tried to catch McKay. "Rodney, wait up!"

"Why? I have no intention of hearing your gush about your new pet."

John glanced around, spotting a nearby storage closet. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"There's nothing to discuss."

John took a deep breath. He had promised he would try one more time. "Please."

Rodney had finally stopped and turned around, scowling at John. "Since Teyla made me stop working I'm going to bed. You can have five minutes." He turned around and started walking again.

John followed him slowly, trying to gather his thoughts. Right, well, might as well start with the relationship stuff, since the team stuff would be moot if Rodney was leaving him anyway.

Rodney was just striding past John's room when Sheppard perked up, an idea forming. It might not work, might even backfire, but it was an idea.

"Can we do it here? I'd rather not walk all the way to your room, and back again if I don't have to." He asked his door to open.

"What?" Rodney asked, spinning around.

"I'm still supposed to be taking it easy. So can we chat here, since it's closer?" John moved towards the door, raising an eyebrow.

"Fine," Rodney grumbled, but followed John into his room.

Leaning against the door after it closed, John decided to do this like a band-aid—pull it off quick and hope to hell it didn't hurt too much. "Are you leaving me?"

Rodney face showed his shock and surprise. "What?"

John swallowed hard. "You've been avoiding me, you don't want me to touch you, you don't even want to be in the same room as me. Are you just waiting for me to heal up before you leave me?"

"First, I've been working," Rodney said after a beat, ticking off the points on his fingers. "Second, you've been doing your own thing and have looked like you were going to either break or fall over if someone sneezed or breathed on you. Third, are you sure you didn't get a knock to the head?"

"Every time I've made any attempt to get near you at all, you've pulled away or fought me—Hell, you tried to safeword! We've never used fucking safewords." John started to pace a little, suddenly not caring about overdoing it. "Even when you have caved and let me get close, you've flinched away like you can't stand my touch—"

"Oh my, god! Do you even hear yourself? I used a safeword because you weren't listening to me. There's a difference between personal and private and you pushing me into submission in a public and professional place with your XO guarding the door is not appropriate!"

John sat down heavily on the bed. "Fine, and I'm sorry, but that was one time out of dozens, Rodney. In my shower is about as private as we can get, and while you didn't safeword, you sure as hell didn't really want me touching you. Every time I've tried you've pushed me away and gotten pissed off at me if I make any attempt to push it. So my questions stands: are you leaving me?"

Rodney's lips thinned and he crossed his hands over his chest. "No. Unless you're trying to tell me you want me to."

"God, no! I fucking love you, you ass. But right now, it feels like I'm the only one who has that particular emotion. If you aren't trying to leave me, then why the hell have you been acting like you are?"

"Acting the way I've been? Maybe because this is who I am and how I act. Have you ever considered that?"

"This is who you were and how you acted before we got together—and you were never like this to me."

"I'm sorry. Are you finding something you don't like about me?"

The fight left him, and John slumped into the bed. "No. I just want to know why I'm being treated like I have the plague. I miss you, I miss being with you, and you won't tell me why we can't be."

"Because you were fucking injured and just breathing on you would break you in two."

"I've been out of the infirmary for a while now."

"And today was the first day you were allowed to walk anywhere."

"Because I had no muscle strength. Not because I was going to break. And that had nothing to do with just being together. Even hanging out and watching a movie or something."

Rodney sighed, some of the fight leaving him. "I'm sorry. Is that what you want to hear? I'm a bad partner, but you knew that going in."

"You're not a bad partner. You're just shutting me out completely." Looking up, John held out a hand, not sure if Rodney would take it or not.

He hesitated for a moment, but finally reached out and John captured Rodney's hand with his own. "If you're thinking I'm leaving you then of course I'm a bad partner."

"I didn't think you were leaving because you were a bad partner. I thought you were leaving because you saw me battered and needy and got disgusted with me." He rubbed his thumb over the back of Rodney's hand, tugging lightly to get him to step closer.

Rodney drifted closer. "I couldn't…I didn't want to hurt you anymore."

"You could never hurt me, not physically. I know you're careful, and I'll tell you if I can't do something yet."

"You didn't see yourself," Rodney said, coming another step closer, his leg brushing the blankets on the bed.

"I know. It was bad, but I've been healing. And I promise you I won't try to push too far. Just holding me isn't going to break me. I'm a pretty wiry guy, and I bounce back from injuries fast."

Rodney shook his head, his eyes taking on a far-away look. "This wasn't fast."

John tugged again gently, pulling Rodney close enough to rest his other hand on his lover's hip. "But my injuries aren't the only reason you've been staying away, are they?"

He felt Rodney's body tense under his hands. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I just know even mentioning it makes you tense up. And Teyla told me something was left out of the official report, but I had to ask you about it."

Rodney's body even got stiffer, tenser. "I have no idea what you're talking about and I thought we'd decided that we weren't going to discuss this. We were going to put it behind us and move on."

"What happened with Milos? Why did she make a point of bringing that up?" He pulled Rodney again, finally settling him so the other man was between his legs, John's hands resting on his hips and holding him in place.

"I have no idea what Teyla's talking about."

Hooking his thumbs under Rodney's waistband, John started to rub slow circles in the skin he found. "Let me help you. You say you trust me, that you love me. Trust me to help you."

"Of course I trust you. But I'm fine. I don't need any help."

"Yes, you do." John pulled and twisted, getting Rodney onto the bed and underneath him. That allowed him to make sure his lover wasn't running away, but freed up a hand to work under the blue science shirt.

"Sheppard! What….what are you doing?" The blue eyes were wide, but they were finally looking up at John.

"Touching you. I think better when I can get my hands on your body. And I think you need this to let go of whatever you're holding on to."

"I’m not holding onto anything," Rodney protested, but his body was telling John 'yes', squirming and arching into his touch.

John shifted so he could nibble his way across Rodney's jaw line. "What are you seeing when you have flashbacks?"

Rodney moaned, his eyes drifting closed. "Who says I’m having them?"

"Are you?"

"Ah…what?"

He sat up just enough to work Rodney's shirt off, tweaking a perky little nipple as he resumed cataloging the taste of his lover's neck. "Are you having flashbacks?"

"Oh god!"

"Is that a yes?"

"A yes to what?"

John chuckled. "Scoot up on the bed, hands over your head." He rolled over to get the leather cuffs and straps out of the bedside table.

"Sheppard, what—"

He moved the toys where Rodney could see them. And added one of the cock rings to the pile, as well as the tweezer-style nipple clamps and a tube of lube. "Hands. Above your head."

Rodney's eyes dilated immediately and he moved slowly, as if on autopilot.

Once he was in place, John slipped the wrist cuffs on, and locked them to the headboard. Then he finished stripping his lover, before putting a pillow under his ass to get the right angle and then locking his ankles down. "So beautiful. So, you were telling me about your flashbacks."

"I was?" Rodney's voice was quiet, distracted.

"You were. And to make it easier, every time you give up something you've been holding on to, I'm going to make you feel very good." He rolled a nipple between his fingers.

"Oh god, John…" he moaned, his eyes closing as he arched into John's touch.

"Let me help you. Give it up to me—all of it. I can take care of you, but only if you trust me with everything."

"But you're hurt." McKay's voice was small, quiet.

"No, I'm not, not any more. I'm better now, and before the night is over, I'm going to fuck you like I've been dreaming of for weeks now. But first, we need to get this off your chest so it isn't weighing you down anymore."

"They broke you. Hurt you."

He rubbed circles on Rodney's stomach. "They hurt me. They didn't break me."

"No. I did that."

He made an encouraging noise, knowing this was part of what his lover needed—to be allowed to just talk.

"Broken, lying in a pile on the floor…"

"Injured. Not broken. I promise, I'm still here, still whole and in one piece. And you saved me. If you hadn't taken out the jamming towers, the team wouldn't have gotten to us in time."

Rodney shook his head, his eyes squeezing shut even tighter. "Hurt you. Couldn't save you."

John stretched his body out along Rodney's. "You did save me. I had already been tortured when they caught you. That wasn't your fault. He was a sadistic bastard, and if it hadn't been me, he would have done it to you to try and get Lorne or me to talk. I made a target of myself to protect you. That's why I was hurt worse than anyone else."

"The screams…they kept going."

Screams...? Oh. "When we were being flogged? That's the only time Lorne and I screamed ourselves hoarse. I'm so sorry you had to hear that."

"I couldn't stop them."

"You did a good job. You kept your head. If you and Parrish had charged in, you would have been caught, and tortured right along with us. But you stayed calm and used your resources in the best way possible. You used your training and you did a fucking fantastic job. You saved us."

Rodney shook his head, tugging at the restraints that held him to the bed. "No. Had to stop it. They're hurting John. God, hurting him so bad…"

"Shhh. I'm here, Rodney. I'm safe, I promise." He recognized that Rodney was falling into another flashback, so he used touch to try and ground his lover, pressed his body tightly against Rodney's.

"Let me go! Stop it! You're hurting him! Stop! I'll tell you whatever you want to know!"

John moved so he was on top of Rodney, pressing him down. "Open your eyes, Rodney. Come on, lover, come back to me. I promise, I'm right here, I'm safe."

But Rodney wasn't listening, wasn't hearing, tugging at the restraints that held him down. His demands to let them go and to stop the torture were raw, pained, desperate, words finally ending in a broken sob as his body jerked suddenly.

John just kept petting his lover, whispering soft words, telling him over and over that they were both safe, it was okay.

"I should have told them, shouldn't have lied. John…oh god John…he'll never walk…never fly…my fault, all my fault…he'll hate me, leave me…deserve it after what I did…I should have just answered them…so easy…so simple…" Rodney's murmured words were barely audible and If John hadn't been so close, he would have never heard them.

His eyes widened—no wonder Rodney had been edgy and unhappy lately. "No, Rodney, I don't hate you. God, not at all. You did good. You did exactly what you were trained to do. I'm fine, Rodney. Carson fixed me right up, I can walk, and I can fly, and I love you so god damned much..."

"…took away the one thing he loves and I could have stopped it, but I didn't…"

John pressed chaste kisses to Rodney's neck and jaw line. "The only thing I can't bear to lose is you, Rodney. I promise, none of that was your fault. It didn't matter what you told them, they would have hurt me anyway. Milos wanted to break me, break us. You did a good job. You saved me."

Rodney had grown quiet, silent tears falling down the side of his face into his hairline.

"Shhh. It's okay, Rodney. It's okay. We're home now, everybody's safe, he can't hurt anyone anymore."

"Just leave me alone," he whispered, the words harsh.

"No. Never." John nuzzled into Rodney's neck.

"Please…don't deserve—"

John silenced him with a kiss, putting as much emotion into it as he could. "I'm so proud of you. You weren't trained to deal with that sort of situation, but you did good. I love you so much."

"You can't, you can't…it happened because of me. All because of me."

"No. Not because of you. Put the blame on Milos, where it belongs. We had been hurt before you were captured, and we were going to be hurt after, no matter what you said or did. You held it together. You took out the jamming towers, and you stalled long enough to give our people time to pull us out of there."

Rodney shook his head, listening this time, but refusing to hear, to believe.

John cupped his face. "Open your eyes. Listen to me. It wasn't your fault. You didn't capture us, you didn't question us, and you sure as hell didn't give the orders to torture us. It wasn't your fault—that fucker was going to hurt me in front of you no matter what answers you gave because he wanted to break you."

"No. Nononono."

"Yes. We weren't people to him. We were captives, to be broken as fast as possible, wrung for information, and then killed. You could have come in and told them you were from Atlantis and handed over your IDC, and he still would have ordered my wrists and ankles broken. I've seen the type, Rodney, and I watched him before you were caught. Nothing you did or didn't do made any difference—you were an excuse to torture me."

"The snap…I can still hear the snap of the bones…" Rodney words trailed off and he turned his head to the side. "Oh god…they snapped and you screamed…oh god…" Something shifted on McKay's face and John knew that his lover was about to become sick. Shit.

He hadn't made the restraints very tight, so he swung off the bed and grabbed the trashcan, before releasing one of Rodney's wrists so he could sit to the side a bit. He rubbed one hand on the scientist's back, trying to soothe him. "I know. I can still feel them snapping sometimes... But that still doesn't make it your fault."

When the heaves finally stopped, Rodney dropped his head on his still secured arm, exhausted. "Just leave me alone. I don't deserve you."

"I could say the same thing. But it wouldn't be true—for either of us." John wrapped himself around Rodney's back. "I love you."

"But you can't…not after what happened."

"Why would you think that?"

"Just can't." Rodney's words were muffled, spoken into the bed.

"We were tortured. And you did what you had to do to get us rescued. In my book, that makes you the hero of the hour, along with Parrish, who led them to us."

"No," he shook his head. "Parrish. All him."

"Both of you." John pressed more kisses into Rodney's neck.

Rodney fell silent again, trapped between John and the restraints holding him to the bed.

"Love you." John whispered it over and over, hoping he could make Rodney believe it.

McKay's body slowly relaxed, his breathing evening out and John realized he'd fallen asleep.

Well, so much for sex. With a few more kisses, John very gently rolled Rodney back over—then refastened the wrist restraint. Even when he had convinced Rodney to stay the night over the last few weeks, his lover had been gone in the morning, and they weren't finished with this conversation. Making himself comfortable, John pressed one more kiss into Rodney's skin before drifting off to sleep himself.

***

Rodney woke slowly, confused as to where he was and what was happening. He tried to shift, but he couldn't move, his limbs secured in place. He panicked for a minute, thinking he was back there again, but a gentle hand against his chest calmed him.

"Morning, lover."

"Jo…John?" God…his voice was weak, scared.

Dry lips were pressed into the corner of his mouth. "Yes. I'm here. You're safe. We're in my room on Atlantis."

Rodney wrenched open his eyes, his gaze confirming Sheppard's words even as the other man continued to nuzzle at his neck and along his jaw. "But…"

"But?"

He'd been about ready to ask why he was there, but the memories from last night came flooding back. God…how could John tolerate him? "Why…why am I still here…like this?"

John's lips twitched. "Because I didn't know which of us would wake up first, and I didn't want you taking off again."

"Oh." Rodney finally turned his head, looking at his lover for the first time…in a long time, seeing the love in his eyes. "Hi."

John did smile then, one of the rare, genuine ones Rodney never saw when there was anyone else around. "Hi."

"I…ah…need to pee and my mouth tastes like shoe leather."

John chuckled. "Yeah, I can imagine. I took care of both before you woke up." He went to work unhooking the straps, but he left all four cuffs in place.

Rodney pulled his arms together, the limbs feeling weird from being held so long in the outstretched position. "Cuffs?"

"Stay on for now. Go take care of nature, then come back here." John's fingers were carding through Rodney's chest hair as he talked.

"But what time is it? I should get back to the labs," Rodney started, only to break off when John shook his head.

"You aren't going to worry about anything, not right now. I called Beckett and Elizabeth and told them we had both been pushing ourselves too hard, and needed the morning off. They're taking care of the rest."

Rodney sat up, scowling at John as his eyes wandered the room. His clothes were nowhere to be found. "You can't just do this."

"I already have."

"Where are my clothes?"

"You don't need them right now. Go take care of business. You'll feel better."

"Food. I'm going to need food."

John pointed at the desk, where there was a covered tray. He smirked. "Anything else?"

Scowling, Rodney climbed out of bed. "This is so unfair."

"I'll find a way to make it up to you." John moved to stand behind him, arms wrapping around Rodney's waist and lips nibbling at his neck.

Rodney could feel John's erection against his ass. "Oh god…"

"Hurry back." It was a soft whisper in his ear. John sucked lightly on the lobe before releasing it, releasing Rodney, and stepping back.

Turning around, Rodney met John's gaze for a minute before nodding and heading into the bathroom, nearly beaming himself on the doorframe since he wasn't paying attention. He quickly got business taken care of and brushed his teeth, feeling better than he had in a while.

When he walked back out, John was on the bed, legs wide open, fondling himself.

The sight made Rodney stop mid-step, his eyes immediately focusing on John's fingers where they wrapped around his cock and balls, tugging and caressing.

"Feels better when you do it." John canted his hips up a little in invitation.

"You are so hot."

John's chuckle was full of heat. "The feeling is mutual. Now get over here and join me."

"But you're still injured."

"Do I look injured to you?" John spread his legs wider, and Rodney watched him slip a finger down to caress his own entrance.

Rodney moaned as his eyes widened and he took a staggering step toward the bed. He wanted those hands on him, touching him.

John hummed, slowly fucking himself with one finger. "I could be doing this to you. Opening you up, preparing you. You could be squirming under me right now knowing I was going to fuck you soon, but not too soon, that I would make you pant for it first."

"Please, John," Rodney said, his knees suddenly weak as he slid down toward the floor, kneeling.

"Get up here. Back in the position you woke up in."

He whimpered, but moved, crawling toward John and the bed, his body already thrumming with need and something else. "Please, John…need it to hurt." The whispered words surprised him, but Rodney didn't take them back, couldn’t take them back.

John nodded, seeming to understand. He locked Rodney back into place, and then added a gag and blindfold. "Nothing but me, Rodney. I don't want you thinking about anything except me." Without warning, clamps were attached to each nipple.

Rodney howled at the sensation, back arching as much as the restraints would allow, his body trying to get away from the pain, but every moment only intensified it.

The next thing he felt was a cock ring, which started to vibrate—hard—as soon as it was in place.

John was only starting and Rodney was already whimpering and moaning with need and pain, but he needed more, wanted more.

Hands were all over him, touching seemingly at random. Sometimes it was a gentle caress, sometimes it was a hard pinch, and Rodney gave up trying to predict where or what would come next.

Rodney simply reacted, arching into caresses and pinches alike, moaning and howling and screaming, the gag muffling everything. More. He needed more. Needed it to hurt.

"What do you need, Rodney? Do you need this?" Before he could figure out what John meant, one leg had been released and pushed up, exposing his ass. A hand came down on it hard, making a loud smack.

He whimpered and nodded, pulling his leg toward his chest, giving John more access, better access.

He lost track of time for a while after that—his world narrowed down to John's hand on his ass, spanking him, hard.

His ass cheek felt like it was on fire, every nerve screaming, his own howling sobs an accompaniment to John's swats.

Finally they slowed and stopped. Rodney's leg was tugged back down and strapped into place—which was a whole new type of sensation, since it gave him no way to get away from the heat on his ass. The cock ring, which had gone down to a low hum while he was being spanked, suddenly ramped back up. John's voice was soft when he finally spoke. "Better?"

Rodney sniffled, moaning.

Lips traced their way down his body, mouthing at the clips still on his nipples. "So beautiful, Rodney..."

He tried to arch up, but the increased pressure on his ass cheek hurt and he ended up whimpering and trembling.

"Just let me make you feel good now."

Rodney shook his head. No. He had to hurt.

"You don't have a choice. Submit, Rodney. Let go."

He whimpered again, squirming against the restraints.

John's hand came down hard against his thigh. "Submit."

He yelped, sobbing a little into the gag.

Fingers ran up his sides, up his arms, tangling with his own. The heat from John's body pressed into him. "Let go of everything except me."

Rodney threaded his fingers through John's, squeezing tightly, letting Sheppard's weight hold him down, ground him. He was moaning and panting, the pressure from John's chest against the nipple clamps was intense, but endorphins were already soothing the pain, turning it to pleasure and back again to pain as the cock ring held him firmly.

His lover mouthed along Rodney's neck, kissing and sucking gently. He slowly worked his way down Rodney's body, using his tongue and talented mouth to wring out moan after moan.

And with every pass of John's tongue, Rodney flew higher, his body instinctively arching into touches, trembling with need, want, and desire. John's hands eventually trailed down his arms, soothing one moment and pinching the next.

And then, suddenly, John was gone. He felt the bed dip a little as the other man moved, but the heat, the touches, were gone.

Rodney moaned at the loss, the sound transforming into a whimper as he began to move and shift within the restraints, tugging and pulling. He lost himself in the sensation of the bondage holding him firmly, the intense heat in his ass and nipples as he shifted. His whole world was here—just what he could feel and hear. And there was silence in the room.

When he was like this, when it had been a while, he forgot about John's ability to be and move completely silently when he wanted to. So the finger, already slick with lube that was suddenly there, pushing into his ass, tagging his prostate like it had fucking radar, took him by surprise. But before he could register it fully, it was gone, and there was silence again.

His heartbeat sounded strong in his ears, pounding away within his body. It was nearly too much, but Rodney still wanted more. If it didn't hurt it wouldn't matter.

The next time the finger breached him, it came with another stinging slap to his thigh, pleasure and pain mingling together, leaving him breathless.

Rodney tilted his head back, exposing his throat, shuddering as John worked his fingers in deep, pressing, touching, stretching.

The finger disappeared again, like before. But this time, John latched on to Rodney's neck, sucking hard. He was going to have a new mark there.

John worried at his neck for nearly a minute, his hand tugging at one of Rodney's nipple clamps, which only made him arch into John's mouth, deepening the bruise.

John pulled off the spot, pressing a soft kiss into it before he tugged at the clamp again, making it bite into Rodney's skin.

He yelped, but settled quickly. John knew what to do, knew what he needed.

The mix of pain and pleasure continued until he wasn't entirely sure where one ended and the other began. It was almost a surprise when he felt John sliding into him. He had been stretched, but not as completely as usual, making it burn a little and adding to the sensations coursing through his body.

Rodney forced his muscles to relax, to take John in deep. He wanted to feel John's balls against his ass, against the overheated skin of the cheek.

When he was all the way in, John paused, leaning down to kiss Rodney's neck again, rubbing against the clamps again. He made a few short thrusts, but otherwise was still.

And Rodney felt the last ounce of tension evaporate from his body, his muscles letting John in even further than before. He was full. Complete.

"Good boy." It was whispered against his skin.

John began fucking him slowly, steadily, Rodney's body welcoming him with each and every thrust. Rodney whimpered and moaned quietly, the only thing he was able to do. John took care of everything else.

A hand curled around his dick, jerking in time to the thrusts. The cock ring started to buzz hard again, pulsing with its own rhythm.

He could feel the arousal pooling in the base of his spine, but until John ordered him, told him he could come, he would wait. He was John's. It was as simple as that.

John's breathing was getting harsher, louder, filling the room. Rodney caught his own name being murmured over and over between pants. Sheppard's hand moved lower, caressing the ring around his dick. "I'm going to take this off. Come when I do."

Rodney thought he managed a nod, but his body was not responding to anything he wanted. It only obeyed John.

The tight pressure on his nipples disappeared, and the loss of the vibrations was almost painful. And through it, John just kept fucking him slowly.

Flooded with both pain and pleasure, Rodney moaned, the gag swallowing most of the sound.

"Rodney!" John almost screamed his name as heat flooded him from the inside.

As soon as Rodney felt the warmth of John's come, the pent up arousal finally broke through and he clenched down hard on John's cock, dragging another moan from the man. Rodney's back arched up off the bed as his climax took hold, driving every last thought from his mind.

John collapsed on top of him as his climax ended. He reached up to pull off the gag and blindfold, but left the restraints in place. After blinking a few times, Rodney turned his head to see a sated Colonel smiling softly at him. "Hey, Rodney."

A half-hearted moan was the best response he could give.

He felt John's chuckle all the way down his body. "Me, too. Let's nap."

Rodney tugged slightly at the restraints, shifting a little on the bed.

John reached up and tugged, unhooking the straps, but again leaving the cuffs on. "If you want your legs free too, you're going to have to gimmie a minute."

He nodded once, barely moving his head, shifting closer to John.

John nuzzled into his neck, pressing soft kisses there for several minutes before, with a groan, he pulled out and reached down to finish freeing Rodney. He then settled himself so they were curled together. "Love you."

Rodney didn't reply, but instead wrapped himself around John, burying his head against his shoulder, trying to get as close to the other man as possible.

His lover accommodated him, shifting so they were pressed as closely together as they could be.

Only then, did Rodney finally relax.

***

John sat on his favorite balcony and watched the sun set over Atlantis. It was one of the more beautiful sights, and while he didn’t get here to watch it often, he was always awed when he did.

He tried to get a handle on what he was feeling—Rodney wasn’t leaving him, but he was hurting, blamed himself. They had parted after the amazing sex both better rested than they had been in a while. Rodney had even smiled softly before he had left. And before that, while they were showering and getting dressed, his lover had initiated at least half the touches—neither of them could go long without needing to be in contact.

As the sun sank into the ocean, the colors already starting to bleed out of the world around him, John closed his eyes and rested his head back against the wall. He had skipped his appointments with Kate and Carson earlier, and he was sure he would hear about it, but for now he just wanted to hold on to the peace and happiness he always got when Rodney just gave himself up like that.

The sound of the opening balcony door interrupted his mood, but he knew it was going to be short-lived. John had only hoped it would have lasted longer.

"John?" Rodney voice was hesitant, tentative.

He cracked an eye, surprised to see it was Rodney. He had expected one of his meddling doctors to track him down. "Hey, buddy. You just missed the sunset."

McKay shrugged, his arms wrapped around his upper body.

John reached out a hand, although he didn't get up. "Come sit with me."

"Sitting is a bad idea."

John's grin spread slowly across his face. "I bet. Guess I'll have to come to you then." Using the wall, John pushed himself up and walked the few steps to wrap his arms around his lover.

Rodney leaned into him, his arms encircling John's waist. "Carson was looking for you."

"Yeah, that's actually who I was expecting to find me here. I skipped my appointments—wasn't ready to lose the afterglow."

"He mentioned that."

"Am I in big trouble?" John absolutely loved the way Rodney's neck smelled. On the whole Eau de McKay was addictive, but that spot always made him a little weak in the knees. He pushed his nose into it now.

Rodney sighed, giving John a little more room. "He didn't say."

"Mmmm. How are you doing? Other than the sore ass that is."

"I'm…I’m actually not sure."

Lifting his head, John brushed his lips across Rodney's jaw. "Oh?"

"Nothing seems real."

"In a good way or a bad one?"

Rodney shook his head. "I don't know."

He leaned back to cup Rodney's face, caressing the spot he had been kissing over and over with his thumb. "I know you don't want to, but I really do think you should talk to Kate. At least for one session. I'm worried about you. I can work through my own PTSD, but I don't know how to fix yours."

"Not sure it can be fixed."

"They can. I promise they can." John tried to put everything he felt for this man, all the love, all the worry, everything, into his eyes. Willing Rodney to stop trying to shut them all out.

Rodney sighed again. "I keep seeing that room…those rooms. I can still smell it, hear the sounds, taste the fear."

John nodded. "I can relate. For me, it was Milos—seeing him watching me, knowing he was going to hurt me, and if that didn't get him what he wanted, knowing he was probably going to rape me, or have one of his men do it. But it's getting better. As much as I hate to admit it, talking about it, working through it, helps."

"I can still feel his hand on my face…"

John tightened his own grip on Rodney's face. "Come with me. We'll talk to Kate together, okay?"

"No. I can't…not now."

John sighed, but pressed his lips to Rodney's in a chaste kiss. "Whenever you're ready. If you want to go alone that's fine, but if you want me there, just tell me when and I will be."

"I know." He was silent for a few minutes, his next words whispered. "Carson took me off duty."

John blinked. "He...what? Why? When?"

"He…everything seems to have hit the fan."

John pulled Rodney in closer. "Tell me."

"Seems I've been…'acting out'…something about the multitude of complaints."

So Carson had gotten wind of those. Damn. He wasn't sure what to say that wouldn't either push Rodney away again, or piss him off. So he settled for squeezing him a bit tighter.

"And since I was refusing to deal with the situation he was going to make me." Rodney shrugged and sighed. "Guess it serves me right."

"I'm sorry. I do agree with him that you need to get some help, but... I wouldn't have pushed you that way. I was planning on buttering you up, and if that didn't work, bribing you with extra blowjobs."

Rodney huffed—part sigh and part chuckle. "I wanted to come back here so badly it hurt, but now all I want to do is run as far away from here as possible."

"I know. And please believe me when I tell you that's the PTSD talking. It gets inside you so deep you don't know if you can ever get it out...but you can. If you're willing to let your friends and the people who love you help, you'll be back to your old, amusing brand of snark in no time, instead of the cutting, biting version that has Carson worried."

"Guess the Marines were right."

"Marines?"

"Scientists should stay home."

"No." John leaned back to cup Rodney's face again, his expression fierce. "That's not true at all. If it wasn't for you and Parrish, Lorne and I would be dead. And for the PTSD…anyone who experiences a combat or capture situation is subject to it. Anyone. I'm proof of that, and I've been trained to deal with it."

"And look where that's taken you."

"I won't argue that. But the fact remains that I'm the one who got the brunt of this one. So does that mean I shouldn't be allowed through the gate? That anyone who has the very human reaction of having a hard time dealing with something should be banned from off-world teams? If that was the case, none of us would ever go anywhere."

Rodney sighed again, obviously not convinced. "I’m just tired."

"Let's grab dinner then, and go to bed. If you swing through the mess to get us trays, we won't run the risk of bringing down the Wrath of Beckett upon our heads."

"This all started because I ate dinner with him."

"Oh. Whoops. Okay, Plan B then. I have some MREs stashed in my room. I can eat one of those, while you do something sexy as the dinner show." John grinned a little, wanting to lighten the mood.

"I just want to sleep with you. Is that too much to ask?"

"No, love, it isn't. Let's go." John found himself calling Rodney by the pet name more and more often when they were alone. Especially with the last few weeks. He felt the need to reinforce it, make sure McKay didn't just know it, but believed it.

They untangled themselves and headed back into the city, not touching, but not far from each other either. It was strange to have Rodney so utterly silent in public, and between the odd silences and the biting comments, it wasn't a surprise Carson had grounded McKay. Milos had changed him and not necessarily for the better.

John should have known better than to believe he could avoid Carson forever. He hadn't, however, counted on the man using his medical override to get into John's quarters to wait for him there. Both he and Rodney paused when they saw the irritated Scot on the bed. "Ah..."

"I see Rodney managed to find you."

"Yeah... I heard the news... Um, sorry about this afternoon?"

"I gave you freedom from yer wheelchair yesterday and this is how you repay it?"

John sighed, sinking down into his desk chair. He was grateful when Rodney moved to stand beside him, almost absently massaging his shoulders a bit. "I didn't plan to skip out on you, and I was taking it easy. I just... needed a little down time I guess."

"A little downtime. Is that what you call it these days?" Carson raised an eyebrow and crossed his hands over his chest.

John arched a little as Rodney found a knot and started working on it. "While I won't deny a little indulgence, it had been weeks since we could do much of anything. I also just...relaxed. I've been pushing myself as hard as I can get away with, and I needed to slow it down for a day."

"Did you?"

"Yeah. A little. I did do some paperwork before I was supposed to be in the appointments. But then I just...wandered. Got reacquainted with my city."

Carson sighed and shook his head. "What am I going to do with the two of you?"

"Feed us?" John batted his eyes. If he could get Carson to get him food from the mess, he wouldn't have to rely on an MRE tonight.

Instead, the Scot's face darkened further. "You've been out wandering the city and you didn't bother to make sure you ate a decent meal? I at least know Rodney ate, since I was there with him."

John ran a hand through his hair, but didn't shift enough to dislodge Rodney's hand. "I ah, grabbed a PowerBar for lunch..."

"Taking after Rodney, I see."

John had the grace to blush a little. "I meant to eat... I just, sort of forgot until Rodney found me, and then I realized I was starving. I was going to eat an MRE..."

Carson rose to his feet, shaking his head as he headed to the door. "Yer both grown men. It seems to be too much to ask ye to behave like them. I understand you're going through a rough patch but if ye keep acting the way ye have been," Carson's gaze settled on Rodney briefly before returning to John, "then I'm gonna have to step in officially."

John slumped into the chair. "So... no dinner delivery? And it was one day, Carson. I've been confined to a chair and not allowed to go anywhere by myself for weeks. I needed that time today."

Carson paused at the door, swinging around to face John. "Then ye should have said something—like an adult. Yer under medical supervision. Running off without a word to anyone is not wise given your current circumstances."

John nodded, and tried to look repentant. "Sir, yes sir. It won't happen again, sir."

He nodded, waving his hand in front of the door panel. "I hope so because I'm too tired to spend half my time covering for you."

John immediately felt bad. Carson had done a lot for them, he knew that. "I really am sorry. If it makes any difference, I didn't plan to skip the appointments. I had gotten up to walk a little after I finished going through part of my back-log of paperwork, and lost track of time. By the time I realized I had missed them, it was too late anyway."

"You are wearing a device known as a radio. Next time, use it. I expect to see you tomorrow, first thing, Colonel. Rodney, you already have your appointment. Don't miss it."

"I'll be there," Rodney said quietly, nodding, his hands resting on John's shoulders.

"I'll be there." John sighed as the doctor slipped out, leaning back into Rodney. "Wow, I am so getting the big needles tomorrow."

"If it's okay, I'm going to take a shower and go to bed."

"Yeah. Care for some company?" John turned his face to nuzzle Rodney's hand a little, pressing a kiss into his wrist.

Rodney other hand fluttered a little. "I can't guarantee I'll be up for anything. Whatever Carson gave me is making a little…off."

"He give you the same thing he gave me? We don't have to have sex. I just want to touch you."

Rodney shrugged. "I don't know, wasn't paying much attention at the time." He sighed, the sound tired. "And whatever you want, John."

John stood, catching Rodney's hand as they walked into the bathroom. Neither of them was up for much, so John just took his time washing his lover, trying to soothe away the aches, both physical and mental.

It was strange to see him so docile without being in submission. This kind of submission though—drug induced—just felt so wrong. Whatever Carson had given him certainly had knocked him for a loop.

"Come on. Let's get you to bed." John dried them both off and led Rodney to his bed, pushing him down gently. "I'll join you in a minute. Just let me eat something so Carson can't yell that all I had today was a PowerBar."

"'kay," Rodney said, curling onto his side, his eyes already closing. He looked so miserable.

John stayed close, petting the scientist until he was sure he was asleep. With a sigh, John went rooting around for his MREs. Shit. He had none. He was standing in the middle of the room debating whether he should run to the mess or just say screw it and go to bed, when there was a soft knock on his door. He threw a wild look and the sleeping, naked Rodney, and his own naked body.

The knock sounded again, this time followed by the door chime. Damn. Damn. Damn.

John grabbed his boxers, pulling them on, and pulling the blanket up over Rodney. Hopefully he could block the doorway, and tell whomever it was to come back later. Arranging himself in what he hoped was a casual and 'don't bother me right now' sort of pose, John told the door to open.

"Sir, I'm sorry to bother you," Lorne said, looking sheepish, his eyes fixed front and center.

"I was just getting ready to head to bed, Evan. What can I do for you?" Shit. Shit shit shit. He had a feeling Lorne suspected, but it was one thing to speculate. It was another altogether to find the chief male scientist naked in the bed of your commanding officer.

"I can…see that, sir. You weren't answering your radio and I thought you should handle this personally. It's Ronon, sir. It seems there was a difference of opinion between him and one of the Marines. You can probably figure out who's still standing. Doctor Weir asked to have Ronon restricted to the brig for the time being."

John closed his eyes briefly. "I took it off when I hopped in the shower and didn't put it back on. What was the dispute? How bad was the Marine injured?"

"He'll be in the infirmary for a while."

"And the dispute?"

Lorne sighed. "It varies based on who you talk to."

John wanted to scream, but managed to restrain himself. "Give me a minute to put some pants on, and I'll come see if we can't figure this out."

Evan offered a tight smile. "Again, I'm sorry for bothering you with this, but given your relationship with him and since he's a member of your team I thought it might be best."

"Yeah, thanks." He reached over to grab a pair of pants without moving too far out of the doorway, and just hoped it was dark enough that Lorne couldn't see the bed very well. He wished he could leave Rodney a note...

The telltale creak of the mattress made John pause. Of course Rodney had to pick this moment to shift in his sleep.

"Do you need me to give you a minute, sir?"

John knew he was probably blushing a bright red shade, but he went with the 'ignore it and your junior officers will, too' strategy. "Ah... Yeah. If you wouldn't mind. I'll be right there."

"I'll be waiting down the hall."

John banged his head against the wall a few times and groaned. He found a t-shirt and got himself more or less presentable, hoping his legs wouldn't decide to give out on him after a day of walking around already. He wrote out a quick note and left it beside his sleeping lover, kissing him lightly on the forehead.

Lorne was waiting patiently down the hall—several doors down—just as he'd said, falling into step next to John as soon as he stepped close. "Sorry again, sir."

John hoped he wasn't still blushing. "Not your fault. So while we're walking, give me the summaries of what the witnesses are claiming."

"No one can confirm who started it—Ronon or Jameson. He came on with the new lot and had been settling in well. But all the witnesses conform that the two were talking quietly until such time when they weren't any longer." Lorne shrugged. "I wasn't there, so this is all second and third hand at best."

John ran a hand across his face. His stomach growled, reminding him he still hadn't eaten yet. "All right, let's go get Ronon's side of things, then head to the infirmary to hear what Jameson has to say about it."

"The second part will have to wait until morning."

"That bad?"

Lorne nodded. "I’m sure Doctor Hayes will be able to tell you more."

"Beckett didn't take the call?"

"He was off duty and off his radio. I think they tried to find him, but Doctor Hayes took the call."

John snorted. "He was in my room a little while ago berating me for missing my appointments and not eating today."

"Then you know more than I do, sir." They were silent for a few minutes as they took the transporter down to the security section where the brigs were located. "From our best guess, Jameson may have said something to trigger Ronon's response, but he's not talking."

John nodded, wondering what had set the former Runner off himself. "Well, let's find out." They walking into the brig and John rolled his eyes at the security—they had the force shield on for God's sake. "Drop the field, Sergeant, and open the door."

"Sir, Doctor Weir—"

"Told you to secure him, not treat him like a Wraith." God, John was beginning to wish they had never made contact with Earth again—the SCG had saddled him with all the rejects apparently. "Open the door and let me in to talk to him. If it makes you feel better, if he tries to run or molest me or something, you can stun him. But that's not going to happen."

After a scowl from the Sergeant, he complied, letting John into the brig, but standing with his hand on his gun in the doorway.

John just rolled his eyes again as he stepped into the cell. "All right, Ronon, what happened?"

The Satedan shrugged. "I hit him."

"I got that part." John sat on the bench across from his teammate, hoping it came off more as trying to be a good leader and show his trust than that his legs were starting to shake from the strain he had put on them today. "What I want to know is why."

He shrugged again. "Had it coming."

"Ronon...look, I'll be getting his side of the story too, as well as talking to the witnesses. I know you wouldn't hit him without a damn good reason, but I'll have to prove that to Elizabeth and probably the SGC if he makes a formal complaint. So please, tell me what the fuck he said to set you off."

"He had it coming," Ronon repeated. "Ignored him until now. You can't have men openly against your commander."

John sucked in a breath, and heard Lorne do the same somewhere behind him. "Fuck. He was badmouthing me? Was he dropped on his head as a child?" Rubbing his face, John tried to think. "I know there are a lot of...unflattering...things being said about me. Which one was he spouting?"

"Several. Didn't limit it to you either."

"Who else? If you don't want to tell me what he said—and honestly if it was about me, it's probably better you don't, since that would introduce bias—but I do need to know who else besides me he was talking about."

"You. Lorne. Teyla. McKay."

With a quiet sigh, John tapped the radio he had grabbed on his way out of his room on. "Sheppard to Weir."

"Weir here. Go ahead, John."

"Since you gave the order to confine Ronon to the brig, the command to release him will need to come from you. Not to say he's going to get off scot-free, but he doesn't need to be down here. Apparently the Marine in question made some…unflattering comments about the members of my team, as well as my command staff, and Ronon took exception to it. I'll talk to the Marine to get his side, but getting upset when someone insults your teammates isn't a brig-worthy offense."

"He put someone in the infirmary over some unflattering comments?"

John glanced over at Ronon. "How many times did you hit him?"

"Until he stopped moving."

"Yeah, Elizabeth. Apparently the comments were particularly offensive. Although, to keep from biasing myself, I don't want to know what they were. If you want to know, you can ask him yourself later."

"I plan to."

"I'm going to send him to his room, and have him stay there until tomorrow. We can deal with it then."

"He's not five, Colonel. He's a grown man who should know better."

"I agree. But he's not a criminal either. He was defending his team. And while I don't agree with his methods, I don't think he needs to be kept in the brig for it. He and I will have a chat about what's appropriate in this sort of situation when it comes to people on our own side."

"He's your responsibility, Colonel. Take care to see it doesn't happen again. Weir out."

John pushed himself up slowly. "All right, Ronon, you're released to your room, and try not to hit anyone else on the way there. We'll sit down tomorrow with Doctor Weir and figure out what the official reprimand will be. Just keep in mind that no matter how irritating someone is, unless they are trying to kill or maim someone, our administrative people frown on violence as a solution." Pausing, John grinned a little. "Or course, if you were to...invite...someone who made statements you disagreed with to face you in the training room, that would be considered a, well a boxing match for lack of a better term. Mutually agreed upon."

Ronon looked at John for a long moment before nodding. "Okay. I thought you wouldn't mind, especially after what McKay did. Thought we were supposed to support our teammates."

"What McKay did? And honestly, if soldiers are going to pick fights, I think they should be able to take the consequences—and I include myself in that—but ultimately I report to Weir. And the SGC. And they both frown on that sort of thing."

"Back on the planet, ordering that death. Some men wouldn't have been able to."

John froze, and he knew his eyes were widening. "Ordering... Ronon, what the hell are you talking about?"

"The last mission where you were injured."

"Right. I remember that. But McKay didn't order anyone's death."

"Yes, he did. Whoever had captured him. Don't know his name." Ronon shrugged. "Did as he asked."

John sat back down hard. Suddenly, a few things made a lot more sense. "You're telling me McKay ordered you to kill Milos, the fucker who held us on that planet? And watched while you did?"

Ronon nodded. "Figured you knew."

"No, apparently no one thought I needed to know that little tidbit of information. Lorne!" He called back over his shoulder. "Did you know McKay ordered Ronon to kill Milos?"

"What!" Lorne stepped close to the bars, his eyebrows drawn close together. "That's not like McKay."

"No fucking kidding. No wonder the man's been having a rough time dealing with things." John felt a little sick—not over the act, if he had been there he would have shot the bastard himself—but because Rodney had been dealing with that alone. "All right, Ronon, head up to your room, and we'll deal with the Marine in the morning. I can't take any more surprises tonight."

"Fine." Ronon rose, moving past the Sergeant with a graceful ease.

John took a few deep breaths, and tried to pull himself together enough to be a military leader in front of his men. He was just so fucking tired. No wonder Carson had been so pissed that he wasn't taking it as easy as he was supposed to. "Sergeant, you can head back to your normal duties."

"Thank you, sir." And with a crisp salute he was gone.

John had forgotten Lorne was there until the other man sat on the bench next to him.

"You okay?"

"I just had one of team members beat a Marine into the ground for calling me and my team less than complimentary names. And then I'm told, offhand, that my geek and chief science officer ordered the man who tortured us killed in cold blood while he watched. What do you think?"

Lorne sighed. "Not so okay."

With a deep breath, John forced himself to stand. "Not so much, but I'll live. All right, I need to swing by the infirmary and get an injury report, even if Jameson can't answer questions right now. I can't do anything with only half the testimony."

"I can have the doctor email it over to you if you want."

Moving slow, John started out. "I need to get it myself. If I came down to see Ronon, and didn't even make an attempt to see Jameson, it wouldn't help matters any."

Lorne stayed with him, keeping pace. "I understand, sir, but I doubt Jameson going to be complaining about it anytime soon."

"This isn't just about Jameson and Dex. We have a serious morale issue, and if I'm not careful, I'm going to lose control of my base."

"Jameson's not the only one sharing his opinions. He's just one of the louder ones."

"Exactly. And those are the ones who will talk if I'm not careful to be scrupulously fair. Some days I really miss just being a glorified taxi driver in Antarctica." John sighed. He was going to have to eat something soon, since it was looking like it was going to be a long night.

"Sir?" Lorne was looking at him carefully. "I think I missed part of what you said."

"It wasn't important." Steeling himself, John pushed the pain that was starting to build in his ankle and legs aside and picked up the pace.

"You sure?"

"Just reflecting on how much I hate administrative political shit. So no, not really important in the grand scheme of things."

"And that involves eating?"

"What?" He tried to ignore the way the world was starting to spin a little around him. They were at the transporters, so he stepped inside. "Who said anything about eating?"

"You did. Are you okay, sir? You're looking a little pale."

"M'fine." He started to step out of the transporter, only to have to grab the wall to steady himself when a wave of dizziness hit him.

"Damn…sir?" Lorne's hands were on him, holding him upright.

"I'm...fine. Just... needed to catch my breath."

"Sir, when did you eat last?"

"Um... PowerBar. This morning? I'm..." He tried to push off from the wall, and got a few steps before he had to stop and close his eyes. "...fine."

Lorne got his arm around Sheppard, holding him up. "Not fine, sir."

"C'son's gonna kill me..."

"Probably." A few moments later and they were staggering into the infirmary and John found himself on a bed shortly thereafter, Doctor Hayes bending over him.

"Colonel? We've hooked you up to an IV drip to get your sugar up."

"M'fine. Just... a little tired." He tried to sit up.

A hand on his shoulder kept him in place. "No, sir, more than that. Part of this is from the Paxil, side-effects. I'm surprised Doctor Beckett didn't catch this earlier."

He tried to struggle against the hands holding him in place. "I'm fine. I need to..." Fuck, he felt so fuzzy all the sudden. "Lorne? What was I doing?"

"Listening to the doctor."

"No. I was... Jameson. I was here to check on Jameson." John pulled his scattered wits together and tried to sit up again.

"Sir…Sheppard." This time it was Lorne holding him in place. "You'll feel better in about an hour. Then you can get what you need."

"I have...duties. Can't...lounge around..."

"Not lounging. You're getting treatment as a patient and you're off-duty."

"No..." John continued to try and struggle to sit up.

"What in bloody hell…" Damn. Carson.

"M'fine. C'son, tell them to lemme up..." John continued to struggle against his XO and the attending doctor, trying to get out of bed. He made an attempt to pull the IV out.

"Restraints, Colonel. Do I need to get them?"

"No!" Even the thought of being restrained sent John into a panic, trying harder to free himself. On some level he knew he needed to sit back, but there was just too much to deal with right now, and his low blood-sugar and the pain from being up too much were starting to take their toll, making it harder for him to focus on reality.

There were hands holding him down and then a harsh voice in his ear. "Colonel…stop it. If you don't calm down I'm gonna have no choice. Do ye understand? Answer me."

John was breathing hard, trying to regain control. "No, please..." He closed his eyes and forced himself to stop struggling, although the effort left him trembling.

"No, you don't understand?"

"N..no res...traints. Please..."

"Then lay back and stop being an ass."

John opened his eyes and glared. "M'fine. Was fine until you...threatened me."

"Don't give me that, you bloody git. You were fighting Doctor Hayes and that is something that I will not allow. You will lay in that bed until such time that your blood sugar is back to normal. Am I understood?"

"Because I'm fine. I don't need to be here." John started to try and shift to get more comfortable, but found himself being held back down again.

"This is your final warning before you become my guest for the foreseeable future. Lay back and let Doctor Hayes treat you, or we do it my way."

"Was trying to get more comfortable! Fuck... don't...please... I really don't want to spend any more time in restraints..."

"Colonel…" Carson's voice was hard, unmoving.

John started to hyperventilate again, although he did his best to hold himself completely still.

"Do I have your agreement that you will remain here until Doctor Hayes releases you?"

"Tonight? Will I be released tonight?" John was starting to shake from the effort of holding himself so still.

"You did not answer my question." Carson wasn't budging.

John glared again. "I want to know how long I'm going to be here before I agree to anything."

"This is not a negotiation."

Lorne stepped forward, his voice quiet. "You may just want to answer his question, sir."

John gritted his teeth. He could always pull out the IV and leave as soon as everyone left. "Fine."

"Was that a yes?"

"It's whatever you need it to be."

Carson's face darkened. "Do I need to get sedatives?"

"You really think I'm going to answer that with a 'yes'? I'll stay put for the time being. That's all I'll promise."

"Fine." Carson paused and John thought he was done, but the Scot squared his shoulders. "Right now, I don't care what you like or don't like. Your attitude is rubbing off on the rest of the military staff and is making our job nearly impossible. And you should know better, Colonel. We're not doing this because we like it. We actually want you to get better—although for the life of me, I dunno know why. Now, stop acting like a spoiled brat and let Doctor Hayes do his job."

And with that, Carson turned on his heel and headed out without a backward glance.

Well, fuck. All John's anger deflated and he sank into the bed. He was beginning to wonder if he was really cut out for this. Maybe he should just retire and go back to Earth after all.

Doctor Hayes was quiet for a long moment, fiddling with a few things on the bedside table. "And in answer to your question, Colonel, you should be here about an hour. As long as your levels are good you'll be released to your room."

"Whatever. I'll... whatever you say." He closed his eyes, and depressed himself trying to determine how much of that little performance he could blame on PTSD, and how much was him.

"We'll get you back to normal as fast as possible so you can get back to what you were doing," Hayes said. "Are you feeling okay otherwise?"

"My ankles and legs are throbbing. I probably walked too much today."

"Let me give you something to take the edge off."

He didn't protest. Just took what he was given and swallowed it. "Lorne. Since I'm here for the foreseeable future, can you get the report on Jameson for me? Find out when he'll be cleared to answer questions."

Evan nodded. "Will do."

John nodded once before closing his eyes. Why couldn't he seem to do anything right these days? Not with Carson, not with Rodney, not with his men... every decision seemed to be the wrong one.

A hand on his shoulder startled him. John opened his eyes to find Hayes smiling down at him. "You're set to go, sir. The Major left you some reading material."

John glanced over at the table. Huh, he hadn't heard Lorne come by. "When will Jameson be awake and alert?"

"Sometime tomorrow is our best estimate. He won't be happy to find his jaw wired shut until he heals, but he'll be fine."

Nodding, John slowly swung out of bed. "Can you make a note to have me paged as soon as he's up for visitors? I need to get his version of events before I can make any decisions about what happened. Also, do you know where I can find Carson?"

"Doctor Beckett is off-duty until tomorrow." Hayes shrugged. "You may want to try his quarters."

"I'll stop by there. Thanks." John was still moving slow, although whatever pain meds Hayes had given him helped a little. He wanted to go just crash with Rodney, but first, he needed to make an attempt to fix things with Carson. Stopping at the doctor's door, John palmed the chime.

After a minute, he chimed again. No answer.

Sighing again, John went through his pockets, looking for paper and a pen—at the very least he could let Beckett know he had been by.

John quickly wrote a note on the scrap of paper he was able to steal from the file he was carrying.

_Carson—_

_I'm sorry. Stopped by to grovel. I'll catch you later._

— _J_

He folded it, and stuck it in the door, turning to head towards his own room.

John sighed in relief when the doors finally closed behind him, his lover still sound asleep on his bed, still in the same position he'd been in hours ago.

Stripping, John climbed into the bed, spooning his body around Rodney's. "Please still be here when I wake up," he whispered softly.

Rodney's breathing didn't alter and John melted against the warmth, his arm tugging the scientist closer to him.

Closing his eyes, John let sleep tug him down, knowing that tomorrow was going to be a very rough day.

***

Rodney woke up slowly, his back pressed against John's chest, his lover's arm wrapped around him, holding him close. This was just about the best way to wake up.

Shifting slightly, he glanced at the clock and sighed. He had less than an hour to get himself to Carson's office and he was not going to be late. His ears were still ringing from yesterday's "discussion" with the Scot over dinner.

He was just so tired.

His movements made John snuffle, pulling him in tighter.

And god, John…There was so much weighing on him. And even though Rodney wanted to make things easier, better for him, it seemed the only thing he could do was make everything more complicated, more burdensome.

Rodney felt the light press of a kiss on the back of his neck.

And that just made him feel worse.

"Morning." John swung his leg around, anchoring Rodney against him even more. They were about as close as they could get without John being inside him.

"Hi," he said quietly. "I need to get moving."

"Mmmm. Me, too. You slept through all kinds of issues last night." A hand came up to toy idly with one of his nipples. "Ronon mentioned something interesting."

Rodney moaned shifting back against John. "I can't be late."

"I know. How much time do we have?" John continued to tease, and Rodney could feel his lover's morning erection pressing into his ass.

"Ah…" Damn, John was distracting. It took a minute for him to finally put the numbers straight. "Forty minutes. I need to be at Carson's office in forty minutes."

John chuckled into his neck, hot and wet and very dirty. "That's doable."

Rodney groaned. "I have to shower and eat and change."

The finger left his nipple and moved back, pressing between them to find his entrance. "That just means less foreplay and more fucking."

John teased him for a minute before reaching around to the bedside table to grab the lube. A slick finger was pressing in him a few beats later, quickly followed by two fingers. Rodney groaned at the intrusion.

While he finger-fucked him, John was busy kissing and nipping at Rodney's shoulder, still using his leg to hold them pretty tightly together. He could feel his lover's heat burning into his back, anchoring him. When, a few minutes later, John pulled out his fingers, Rodney didn't even have a chance to protest before they were replaced by the blunt tip of his cock.

"John…" Rodney moaned as he slid in. John rolled him so Rodney was lying on his stomach which meant he was going to have to get up on his knees in a minute. John had done this a few times before in the morning. A quick fuck to get the day started.

"So perfect. God, you're beautiful." John whispered it in his ear before pulling him up, positioning him. It wasn't the slowest sex they had ever had, but it wasn't fast either. It was good morning sex, and Rodney still couldn't believe he got to have that, especially with this man.

John's cock grazed Rodney's prostate every time, pulling a moan from him with each and every pass.

"Mine. All mine... Come for me, lover. Let me feel you..." John tagged his prostate hard as he gave the command.

Rodney whimpered and came without John's hand on him, the pleasure rolling through him until he was clenching down on John's cock.

John moaned, and a beat later, came deep inside him. He collapsed down, pushing Rodney into the bed. "Mmmmm. Hi."

Less than ten minutes of activity and he was spent.

John hummed softly, pressing sloppy, post-coital kisses into Rodney's skin. "How are you doing?"

"Tired."

John chuckled. "Sorry." He petted Rodney for a few minutes. McKay could almost hear his lover thinking.

"I need to go," Rodney finally said.

Sighing, John pulled out and rolled off, although he continued to stroke Rodney's side lightly. "We're going to need to talk later. Can you let me know when you have some time?"

"Talk?"

"Ronon mentioned the order you gave him on the planet. I approve of it, heartily, but I know you, and I know it's got to be eating you up. I want to help."

Rodney stilled for a beat before pushing himself up and off of the bed. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

John was right behind him, wrapping his arms around him. He was pressing kisses into Rodney's neck again between words. "Yes, you do. But I also know you don't have time right now, and I have my own appointments to get to. Just...I'm not angry, I'm not disgusted. I don't think you did a bad thing. But I'm also a soldier, and I've been trained to deal with the aftermath of giving that kind of order. Let me help you. Later."

"I need to go."

John turned him around, claiming his mouth, not letting up until Rodney parted his lips and let his lover inside for a gentle kiss. "Go then. I love you."

Rodney nodded, moving to the bathroom to clean up a little before he climbed into his clothes, John watching him silently, his expression quiet and sad. Just before he walked out the door, he paused, offering a timid smile. "I'll see you later?"

John held out a hand, pulling him in for a last kiss. "Yes. Call me when you have some free time. I have meetings of my own this morning, but we'll try for this afternoon. If not... We will have dinner together, and then we will talk."

"Um…okay." Rodney nodded, pausing again. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about. Love you." John voice and his expression were both tender, and so full of emotion it was hard to deny it.

"Love you," Rodney whispered, nodding again and finally letting go of John's hand as he headed out the door. His first step was his quarters to shower and change, piling his dirty clothes on top of the rest of the mess. He had to do laundry. Another thing he'd neglected.

A quick breakfast in the mess came next and then Rodney was proud that he was walking into the infirmary with one minute to spare.

The Scot was in his office, and looked up as Rodney knocked on the doorframe. "Rodney. I have to admit, I'm impressed. You not only did'na skip out, you're on time."

"I said I'd be here."

He gestured to the guest chair. "Have a seat, lad. Now, why don't you tell me what's on your mind before I do a physical. I know I cleared you a few weeks back, but I want to check you over, and then I've made an appointment for you to have a follow-up session with Kate in a bit."

"I just want to get back to work," Rodney said after a minute, going for the barest truth. Working helped him forget.

"Aye, and we all want you to get back to work, at full speed. But right now, you're snarling at everyone, and from what I've been able to determine, you might be working hard, but you're accomplishing less than usual. So, let's try this again. Want to tell me what's bothering you?"

"I'm tired and I work with idiots. That's nothing new."

Carson rolled his eyes. "Fine then. I'll let Kate deal with convincing you to open up. Right now, I dinna have the patience for it from you or your partner." He picked up his instruments. "Shirt off then. Let's have a look at you."

Rodney glanced around. "In your office?"

"Would you rather we do this in the middle of the infirmary? I was trying to give you a little privacy."

"Your office is not exactly an examination room."

"Fine." Carson rose and moved out into the main part of the infirmary, standing next to a bed in the middle of the floor. He glanced back. "Well? Come on then. Go ahead and strip. Put on a gown."

Rodney was about to complain again, but instead held his tongue, starting to strip as Carson tugged part of a privacy screen around the sides of the bed. The uniform jacket and shirt came off first, followed by his shoes, socks, and pants. He turned to tug the gown on, but was stopped by the Scot.

"What the bloody hell?" Fingers were pushing on the various bruises along his shoulders.

Rodney shifted away from him. "Ow, that hurts."

Carson turned him, his expression angry. "And just how did you get these, and when were you plannin' on telling me you were injured?" His accent was getting thicker as he got more upset.

"I’m fine. They don't hurt unless you press on them."

"You did'na answer my question."

"I wasn't planning on telling you."

Carson's face got even darker. He gave Rodney the once over, hissing when he caught a glimpse of his bruised ass cheek. "Bloody everlasting hell. Who did it? Sheppard?"

"Carson, I'm fine."

"You bloody well are not fine. On the table. It seems I have a few more things to talk to the Colonel about when he stops by."

Rodney scooted up on the table, trying not to wince. He closed his eyes and sighed. "I asked for it, Carson. He didn't do anything I didn't consent to."

"No one consents be being beaten. And to get this many and this deep of bruises...I will not stand by and watch you be abused, gibbering idiot that you are sometimes."

"I’m not being abused," Rodney hissed.

"You're covered in bruises and you will'na tell me how you got them. That is the classic signs of abuse. And denial."

"It had to hurt," Rodney said, feeling the first real stirrings of panic for John. "Please, don't take it out on John. I asked him for this."

Carson shook his head, still furious. "I have to report this, Rodney. He's hurting you. I would never have thought him capable of it, but I'll be damned if I stand by and let it continue."

Rodney reached out, grabbing Carson's arm. "Please, god, no. Please don't." Rodney knew he was trembling, begging.

"Then you better damn well give me a good reason why I shouldn't."

"Carson, please. Please, don't report this. It'll ruin him. He'll hate me for sure then. Might have already taken away his ability to fly, I can't take his career away from him. Please, Carson. God, no, please no…"

The doctor's face just hardened. "So the only reason you can come up with is that it will hurt his career? That's bullshit and you know it. I won't sit by and let you be battered and abused just so he can keep being a cocky pilot. God, and I thought I knew the man. I never would have thought he would be capable of hurting you."

Rodney could feel the beginnings of a panic attack beginning as his mind went through all the 'what ifs'. He couldn't let that happen to John. He couldn't. "God, no, Carson. Please. I'd rather die than hurt, John. Please…"

"Then tell me the truth."

And suddenly he was back there again, screaming and pleading and begging, trying to save John. He had to save him. He was all he had. "Please, stop hurting him. You're hurting him. Stop please, god, stop. I'll tell you anything, please god stop…"

"Rodney! Rodney, snap out of it. Bloody hell." He was aware of someone shaking him, trying to get him to respond.

"Stop it, please," Rodney sobbed, not caring if Milos saw the tears, his fear. "I'll tell you anything….everything…just please stop…please…"

The next thing he was aware of was the sound of two people arguing—John, one of them was John. "What do you mean 'no, I can't see him'? I came in here to get my check-up and heard him sobbing. Carson, what the hell is going on?"

"John? Oh god, John. I'm so sorry….so sorry." Rodney knew he was trembling and shaking. He tried to slide off whatever he was sitting but his legs wouldn't hold him. He felt the cold floor even before he knew he was falling. He had to get to John.

He heard a curse, and then there were arms around him, helping him up. "Hey, I'm here. It's okay. I have no idea what's going on but—" He cut off suddenly, and Rodney felt him being pulled away. "Carson? What the hell?"

Rodney knew he yelled, fighting at the hands that held him down, fighting until the warm rush of drugs entered his system and he finally stopped thrashing. John. He'd lost John. He had nothing. Nothing to live for. Nothing without him.

He let go, letting his body slump fully, giving himself up to the lure of the drugs, knowing they'd take away his pain. Finally, he'd be at peace.

Rodney heard the frantic voices telling him to fight, to stay awake. But without John, he had nothing. And he couldn't live with nothing.

*** 


	2. Chapter 2

John found himself being hauled into Carson's office bodily by two large orderlies, at Carson's orders. He could hear Rodney crying out, and then, more terrifying, nothing at all. He sat down in the guest chair, knowing fighting wasn't going to get him anywhere, but it was tough to keep himself in control.

A few minutes later, the Scot, angrier than John had ever seen him, came into the office. "Carson? What the hell is going on?"

The office door closed behind Beckett before he rounded on Sheppard. "I should bloody well be asking you that question. What do you think you're doing, playing with Rodney like that?"

"What are you talking about? I came in here to hear him sobbing. He's been flirting with flashbacks and PTSD, but I promised I wouldn't say anything to anyone else until he was ready to talk. But that sounded like he had gotten tossed fully into one. Then you're dragging me off and having me sent to your office like I'm some sort of criminal. So I ask again: What the hell?"

"Before Rodney completely lost touch with reality, he informed me that you were the cause of the bruises I found. I have one of the nurses cataloging everything while he's unconscious."

"The..." John sank into the chair and scrubbed his hand across his face. God, could this week get any worse? "The bruises on his shoulders are my marks. He's always got at least one, and they were given with not only his consent, but his enthusiastic participation. He's as quick to point out when they all start to fade as I am. And I'm assuming you saw his ass, too. I didn't want to give him that one, but he asked me to hurt him, to make it hurt. I wasn't willing to do anything permanent, so I...spanked him. God... you think I'm, what, hitting him?" He felt sick that someone would accuse him of that. That it was Carson, his friend, who was so willing to believe it…

"And you're telling me Rodney asked to be injured? The man who carries on about a splinter or a hangnail?"

"The...his ass, yes. God, you think I enjoyed that? I knew it had to hurt! The only consolation I could give was sticking to one cheek so I knew he'd at least be able to sit down while it healed. Fuck, Carson, I would never hurt him like...like you're suggesting! Fuck!" John sank his head into his hands, shaking. Oh god oh god...

"What were you thinking?"

"That my lover was losing himself in guilt over what happened, and he seemed to think this would help. Nothing I've tried has worked so far, so I was willing to give it a shot."

"Beating is a new form of psychotherapy now?"

John lifted his head, silently begging Carson to understand. "I didn't want to hurt him."

"But you did."

John started to shake, letting his head fall again. "Because he asked me to. Please... I'm not... I didn't... I love him!"

Carson sighed loudly, pausing a few seconds before he spoke again. "I honestly don't know what I'm going to do."

"You know me, Carson. God, that you think I would... That I'm..."

"You're not yourself, Colonel."

He looked up, heat flaring in his eyes. "I've been frustrated and dealing with PTSD, yes, but I'm still me! You're angry because I've been a bit pissy lately, and yes, I know I need to work on that. Hell, I stopped by your room last night when I was released to try and apologize. But I'm not...not the kind of monster who would beat his spouse! I can't fucking believe you…that you think that of me."

"I can only look at the evidence that's presented and when the only reason your spouse can come up with for me not putting it in a report is that it will ruin your career, I'm not sure what to think."

John felt his eyes go wide. "He...what? Why the hell would he even worry about that? Fuck... He told me he thought it was his fault I was tortured, said a few times he was sorry for taking away flight. It didn't matter how many times I told him you fixed me, he's convinced he's hurt me. That's the only reason I can think of as to why he would say something like that."

"So you hurt him in turn?"

"No! It wasn't his fault. It was the fucking bastard Milos who fucking hurt me. And McKay already took care of him. I just found out last night that Rodney ordered Ronon to kill him—while he watched. I told Rodney, more than once, that it wasn't his fault, and if he needed it, he had my forgiveness, but it wasn't helping! He didn't believe me!"

"Rodney wouldn't do that."

"I don't know. All I can tell you is what Ronon told me, almost off-handed. He seemed to think I already knew. I mentioned it to Rodney this morning before we parted, but neither of us had time to talk. We were going to get together tonight, and I was hoping to get him to open up. If it's true, odds are good that's a big part of why he's having such a hard time coping. He isn't trained to deal with making that kind of decision."

"Rodney may not be going anywhere for a bit."

"Oh God... Rodney... He…you have to let me see him. He sounded so... broken. Please Carson..."

"Right now, you're going to go and talk to Kate. No ifs, ands, or buts. I don't care what else you have to do. Do you understand me?"

"Anything." John looked up again, and knew he probably looked as devastated as he felt. "Tell me what you want, and I'll do it."

"You will go and have a session with Kate. She was supposed to be meeting with Rodney so I know she has the time open. That should give me enough time to get the results from Rodney's blood tests back so I can determine why he's unconscious when we only gave him a mild sedative to calm him." Carson paused. "Is there anything else you need to tell me about him?"

John tried to think past his wall of panic that Rodney would be taken away from him. "You've seen my marks, and his ass. We had sex this morning, and while he was going back to his room to shower, there might be traces of it. He… I know he's been flirting with PTSD. I told you that. He's been having a few minor flashbacks, but he denied it. I only knew because I was having them, too, and recognized the signs."

"He hasn't been taking anything?"

"I...not that I know of. I was actually going to talk to you, if I couldn't convince him to do it tonight." He had shrunk into the chair again, miserable. "We...played hard the other night. I didn't see any marks from the cuffs, I'm usually pretty careful about that, but just in case, I wanted you to know."

"Suicidal tendencies? Talk of killing himself?"

John shook his head. "He hasn't said if he is."

"Decreased sex drive? Less interest in sex? Change of habits? Anything out of the ordinary?"

John shook his head again. "He was avoiding me for a while, but he confessed it was because he was afraid he would hurt me again, break me. The last few days, he's responded to my touch like he always does. I... I haven't noticed anything else, other than what I already told you. He was depressed and struggling to deal with what happened, but..."

"Anything else?"

John looked up again. "Not that I can think of. If I do, I'll let you know. When...when can I see him? I'll talk to Kate, tell Elizabeth I have to postpone our meeting. It was scheduled for after my exam this morning. What else do I need to do to convince you I'm not beating my lover?"

Carson rose to his feet. "I'll let you know and I'll speak to Elizabeth for you."

"Thank you..." It was whispered, and he didn't rise yet, not sure he could. He was starting to feel overwhelmed, and didn't know what to think anymore. It was probably a good thing Kate was his next stop.

"I'll let Kate know you're on your way. Let yourself out when you're ready, but don't take too long." A beat later and Carson was gone.

John took a few minutes to catch his breath, put his mask in place. When he was sure he could walk through the halls without looking like he had just been punched, he rose and went directly to Heightmeyer's office. Knocking on the door, he prayed Carson had let her know so he didn't have to wait.

A few seconds passed before the door slid open, Kate's professional mask in place. "John, come in. Carson said you were on your way."

He moved in, dropping into the chair. "He thinks I'm beating Rodney."

Kate paused a moment before settling carefully in the opposite chair. "Are you?"

"No." It was anguished, and John couldn't help it. He curled into himself a little. "I...mark him. He always has one, but that's been almost from the beginning. And he's as quick to point out when it's starting to fade as I am to notice."

"If it's consensual, what's the issue?"

"Carson saw the bruises and... Rodney is...hurting. He, he asked me to...hurt him. A few nights ago. I...I didn't want to, but telling him it wasn't his fault wasn't working. So I...how much do you know about BDSM relationships?"

Kate settled back in her chair. "More than you may think."

He nodded. That would make things a little easier. "Good. That's...how we work. Rodney is mine—my bottom, submissive, whatever you choose to call it. When he's hurting, it's my responsibility to help him, to give him whatever he needs to get him through. In this case, he needed to hurt. So I...spanked him. I focused on one cheek to make sure he could still sit, but still, it's...pretty bruised."

Kate didn't flinch, didn't judge, taking the information he was telling her and simply listening. He knew it was part of her job, but still…right now he needed someone to understand and not judge him or what he did…had to do. "How all-encompassing is your relationship?"

He dropped his head into his hands, not wanting to see her reactions. He wasn't sure he could handle the blow of disapproval right now. "Pretty intensive. It doesn't extend to work—we both know we're good at what we do, and can't do each other's jobs. But everything else is open."

"And you both set up these…boundaries?"

"Yes. If anything, Rodney pushes them more than I do. I'm more...experienced... than he is. I hold back because I don't want to run him off, but the few times we've talked about it, it's been him asking me for more, to stop censoring myself. How much he's willing to give up to me has been growing the longer we're together."

"He's pushing the boundaries…in what way?"

"Asking me for more. To be his top, to not ask for permission for everything—to dominate."

"Everything…in terms of what? Your sexual relationship?"

"Mostly, yes. But in other things, too." John sighed softly. He wanted to be with Rodney now. "He's never had anyone keep a promise to him. When I give him an order, I expect it to be obeyed, and I outline the consequences ahead of time. If he chooses to disobey—and he has, a few times—I won't back down from the punishment. Even if he doesn't like it. Even though it pisses him off, he seems—happier, more centered—when he knows no matter what he does, I'll be there to ground him."

"The structure helps him."

"Yes. It helps me, too. Gives me a reason to...to want to recover. Gives me a person to protect, instead of just a faceless city. Rodney is...everything."

"From your perspective, how has the recent mission affected him? What do you think he needs?"

John shivered slightly, wrapping his arms more tightly around himself. "Badly. He's having a hard time dealing with what happened, and now I'm thinking part of it is that I didn't…couldn't…be strong for him. I...he needed me and I let him down."

"But shouldn't he be able to deal with things like this on his own? He has in the past."

He shook his head. "He gave the order to have Milos shot, killed. He heard me and Lorne screaming, being tortured. Watched that fucker casually order my wrists and ankles broken. He thinks it's his fault, and I know he's been having flashbacks."

"Why does he believe it was his fault? Wasn't he captured as well? Held against his will? Injured?"

"Yes." John hated that he couldn't protect his lover from that. "And I've told him, more than once, that it wasn't his fault. But Milos was questioning him, trying to get information. He doesn't believe me that I would have been hurt no matter what responses he gave."

Kate was silent for a moment, obviously thinking, considering. "Did the intense session the other night help him?"

John looked up, finally, needing to see what she was really thinking—even though he also knew he was fragile enough at the moment that another person he trusted disapproving would probably shatter him. "I think so. He... finally told me some of this. Until then he just kept saying he was fine."

Kate leaned forward. "Did it help you?"

He blinked, not expecting that question. "I...yes. I need to touch him, to lose myself in him. It grounds me as much as it does him, although we do it in different ways. It's part of why we work so well as a top/bottom couple."

She shook her head. "You didn't answer the question, John. Listen, think, and then answer. As a top, did that intense session help you?"

He licked his lips. "Yes. It was probably the first time I really felt like myself since we were rescued."

"Why?"

"I wasn't frustrated. The problems, flashbacks, all of it were—background noise. It was just him and me, and he needed me. When I fall into that headspace, he's the only thing that matters, and even when I came back out of it... everything else didn't seem to be pressing in on me as much. I had breathing room. Not that it lasted." The last came out a bit harsher, closer to the edge of hysteria than he would have liked.

"It helped you cope."

He nodded, his voice feeling hoarse. "Yes."

"If Rodney hadn't asked you to do the things you did, would you have?"

"No." He said it without hesitation. "Hurting him...doesn't get me excited. Not like that. Admittedly I torture his nipples a bit—" John suddenly felt his eyes go wide, the panic moving back in. "Tell Carson that! I didn't mention it, and God, if they're still a little swollen..."

"Breathe, John. I'll tell him if you want once we're done."

He curled into himself again. "God, Kate, if I lose him... I swear, I don't... I'm not abusing him."

"I know that, you know that, and we will make sure Carson understands, but right now I'm more interested in what we were discussing. Can we go back to it?"

He nodded slowly, relaxing a bit. She believed him. "All right."

"Good." She smiled, taking a breath. "Could Rodney's request have been part of what you mentioned earlier, him testing the boundaries, asking you to be stronger, or take control of more of your relationship together?"

"It...yes. Which is why I gave it to him. He needed it, needed it from me. I wasn't willing to really hurt him, but a sore ass… I made sure he would feel it for a few days, but I was careful not to break the skin. I know how to walk that line without crossing it. And tonight I was planning to, to try and get him to talk again. If he didn't, I was going to do what I did the other night, put him into partial headspace and make it an order to talk. He needs to get it out, and if that's the only way he will…"

"Are you comfortable taking so much responsibility?"

He lifted his eyes again. "He's mine. That means he's my responsibility, as least as far as his mental health is concerned. And I wouldn't have it any other way. I can't imagine sitting back and not doing anything, knowing he was hurting when I could help."

"But this might mean much more work for you. If what you're telling me is the case, it seems that Rodney may be looking to bring this relationship of yours to bear on a much larger part of his life than you may be comfortable with. I can't be sure since I have not discussed it with him, of course…"

He thought about it, and caught himself smiling softly. "If that's where this is headed—and given the direction we're moving in, I think you're probably right—I wouldn't complain. If you had asked me a year ago if I would want this kind of relationship, I would have laughed. But the urges to step in are already there. The only reason I don't is because I wasn't sure Rodney would let me."

"Are you sure that's the only reason?"

He shrugged. "If you're asking if it scares me, then yes. It scares the shit out of me, having that much control, that much power, over someone else. But at the same time...if I could openly claim him, I would. If I could openly have him wear a collar here, I would. I know we'll make mistakes, argue, not always agree, but at the end of the day, we're better together than either of us is apart."

"Why don't you have him wear one?"

He blushed slightly. "I, ah, did. When we were on leave. Except to change out which one, he didn't take it off the entire time."

"And he was comfortable with that outward showing?"

John nodded. "Eventually. He was a little nervous about it at first. I have one that looks more like a necklace and he wore it when we were coming back on the Daedalus, but then once we got here we decided to take it off."

"Why haven't you used it here yet?"

He sighed. "Honestly? Because Rodney can't lie for shit and he's never worn jewelry before. Someone would eventually ask him about it, and the odds are good that even if he didn't tell them the whole truth, at least part of it would get out. I'm having enough trouble trying to keep down the rumors and harassment of the science staff by the new Marines. I don't want to turn Rodney into a bigger target."

Kate's mouth twitched up in a partial smile. "Oh, he can keep a secret—when he wants to or when it suits him best."

John shared her smile. "Oh I know. He's very good at keeping the secrets he wants to. But...I already have to ask him to keep our relationship a secret. It wouldn't be fair to ask him to keep that as well."

She nodded once. "Fair enough. So, what do we do next?"

He shrugged. "You tell me. Rodney is in the infirmary unconscious from a light sedative and no one can figure out why—and Carson won't let me near him. I have Marines badmouthing me and my team and command staff, Ronon beating up Marines for badmouthing us, and Elizabeth on top of me wanting me to do something about it. Not to mention this little problem of still not being back up to full stamina or completely off the drugs."

Kate shook her head. "This is where you need to make a decision, John. Look at each situation and see which one has priority. Sometimes Atlantis will come first, other times it will be Rodney, other times it will be you. But that's a call only you can make."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "As the military leader, I know my priority should be the morale issue, and fixing that. As a person—Rodney is my lover, and that's my top priority. The problem is knowing which one should take the top spot: Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard, or John."

"Take each situation by itself. Start with Rodney. What's the situation? Bullet-point it."

He nodded, gathering his thoughts. "One: he is suffering from PTSD and needs to get help. Two: He's in the infirmary, and fell into the coma or whatever after he was in a flashback and asking for me, but I was pulled away from him. Three: He's a sub, and probably needs me to be his top in more than just the bedroom. Four: He's feeling guilt for something he didn't cause, and that needs to be resolved. Five: He's still angry at Ronon, who is also on our team, and that needs to be dealt with."

"How can some of that be resolved?"

"First we need to wake him up. Nothing else can be fixed with him until that happens. Then, I think he needs to talk with you, and I already told him I would do it with him if he wants, or he can do it alone, whichever he prefers. I'll also make a point of getting him to talk. If we can get him to admit he has a problem, we can work on fixing it. I think that will solve a lot of the other issues, as well."

"Okay. We can get back to some of that in a minute. What's situation two?"

He groaned. "That one is harder. I have a morale problem, and pretty much only with the new people. It isn't all of them, but enough that it's an issue. They're making comments about me, Lorne, and the rest of my team, and the rumors about me in particular aren't very flattering. To be honest, I have no idea how to even start fixing that. I've never led a base before, so I've never encountered this kind of problem."

"But it's a larger problem."

He nodded. "Much larger. Although like with Rodney's PTSD, a lot of the others stem from that. Ronon wouldn't be pounding Marines into the ground if they weren't saying rude things, I wouldn't have my desk piling up with harassment reports, and I wouldn't have Elizabeth on top of me trying to get me to fix all of it."

"True. So, there are two situations. Both require your attention. Which is more important for you to handle personally right now?"

After a few minutes, he growled in frustration. "I don't know. Rodney is a problem that, to a certain degree, only I can handle. But if I leave the morale issue for Lorne, I'll lose what little ground I've gained with my men to begin with."

"But which one do you have to deal with right this minute?"

He wanted to get up and pace, but was wary of pushing himself too hard again—not with Carson so pissed at him already. Instead, he drummed his fingers on his thigh. "All right, let me work through this for a minute. Odds are good, as soon as I leave here, that Carson won't let me right back in. He won't listen to me, doesn't trust me right now apparently, so you'll have to convince him I'm not a sick bastard beating my lover for fun. I need to meet with Jameson to get his version of the events last night, and I need to meet with Elizabeth—that all needs to take place today. I have to get Jameson's testimony personally—I did it for Ronon, and I can't afford to show favoritism right now. So, I meet with him, get his story, then, if Carson's calmed down, go by to see Rodney before I head up to the control tower to meet with Elizabeth. I can call Lorne and have him meet me there, since he's been gathering the witness statements."

Kate was smiling by the time John finished. "It sounds like you have a good, workable, and do-able plan."

He let himself smile a little. "That gets me through this afternoon, and hopefully by tonight I can swing back by the infirmary. I need to have PT anyway since I blew it off yesterday, and my appointment this morning got a bit...sidetracked. I can do that, then go sit with Rodney if he's still there."

"Well, you can check off today's appointment with me."

He chuckled. "Good to know. I wouldn't want to monopolize your time, although lately it feels like I spend more time here than my own room."

"You're always welcome here, John. Remember that. Anytime you want to talk about something, even if it's just to bounce ideas off of a neutral third party. I'm here. And I would like to sit down and talk to both you and Rodney, if he's up for it. I think it would be good for both of you."

John nodded. "I agree. We both need to sit down I think, and work through some of this. And I might just take you up on that offer. I'm..." He figured what the hell, she had already pretty much seen him at his worst. "I'm a little overwhelmed at the moment. Just being able to talk it out, work through the pros and cons, helps. I like having my flight plan filed and ready to go before I take off—even if I do deviate from it as soon as I'm in the air."

Kate smiled, offering a light chuckle. "Remember I’m here to help you make sure you stay on course."

He stood slowly, holding out an arm to her. "On that note, shall we go back to the infirmary so you can assure Carson I'm not a monster, and I can go talk to my soldier?"

She nodded, gesturing for him to precede her out the door. "I think we may be able to do this as a divide and conquer. You talk with Jameson and I'll talk with Carson."

"Sounds like a plan, Doc. I'll swing by Beckett's office when I finish with Jameson."

"If I don't see you later, I will see you at tomorrow's appointment, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am. No more skipping out for me. If anything, it saves me the grief from getting chewed out in public." He grinned at her.

They stepped into the infirmary side-by-side, parting somewhere in the middle to head to their respective destinations.

He made his way to the back, glad, for once, not to see Carson anywhere. He found the soldier's bedside easily enough, and was glad to see the man awake. Trying to keep an open mind, John moved to his bedside and smiled. "Hi, Jameson. They told me you were up for visitors now—wouldn't let me in last night. How are you feeling?"

The man scowled at him, barely able to get the words out with his jaw wired shut. "How do you think, sir?"

John pulled up a chair, knowing the angle had to be killing the man. "If you look as bad as you feel, pretty shitty actually. So why don't you tell me what happened?"

"All in my report."

"You've filed one already?" John was a little surprised by that, but he hadn't checked in with Lorne yet, so it wasn't too far-fetched. "I stopped by here before tracking down Major Lorne, so why don't you give me the highlights. I head from here to a meeting with Doctor Weir, where we're going to decide what to do about this."

"I'd rather speak with Doctor Weir."

John let his gaze harden. "All right, Jameson, I'm not really in the mood to dance around with you. Whether you like it or not, I am your commanding officer. I'm pretty easy-going, and I've never been a big fan of heavy-handed leadership. But if you need it to be an order to give me your report, then consider it as such."

Jameson's eyes narrowed. "Permission…speak freely?"

John knew he wasn't going to like this, but he wasn't about to change the way he led, either. "Granted."

"Don't deserve your position. Having aliens lead military…missions is wrong. Scientists…no place in field. Going to get us killed."

"And I respect that opinion, soldier. If you don't agree with how this base is run, I'll approve your request to return to Earth and the SGC as soon as you're released from here. I happen to disagree with you. I personally don't care what someone's background is—be it where they're from or what their career path was. I match the mission to the people, and the science staff—and aliens—have been the salvation of Atlantis more than once."

Jameson rolled his eyes.

John fought the urge to give in to his more base urges. "Again, whether you like it or not, I'm your commanding officer for the time being. And I'm ordering you to report."

"Shared my opinion about how things were run. Ronon took offense."

John was suddenly exhausted. "That's more or less what he told me. Do you have anything you want to add? Extenuating circumstances? Pushed into a corner? I'm trying to help you here Jameson, but you're not giving me much to work with."

"Stand by what I said."

John rose. There was no sense continuing this. "Noted. Do you need me to alert the nurses about anything? I can send them to you on my way out."

Jameson shook his head.

John gave him a short salute and told him he would be notified as soon as any decisions were made. Heading back out, he had to stop to take a few deep breaths. All the calm he had gotten from talking to Kate felt like it had evaporated. That man didn't just disagree with John's policy, he genuinely hated him. And God, if that was wide-spread...

But next on his agenda was seeing Rodney…hopefully.

Taking another breath, he headed towards Carson's office. He hadn't been with Jameson long, so he wasn't surprised to see Kate still sitting in there with Carson. He hesitated, but she saw him and motioned him over. "Ah, hi. I don't want to interrupt..."

"No, please come in, John," Kate said, offering a smile. "Your discussion with Major Jameson went quickly."

He grimaced. "There wasn't much to talk about, and he didn't want to tell it to me anyway. I got what I needed, though." Turning to Carson, he offered a small smile. "So, ah..."

Kate glanced between John and Beckett, focusing on the Scot as she spoke. "Carson and I have discussed the situation and he's willing to hold off on any determinations at this point in time."

John knew the door was open, but he couldn't help relaxing, some of the tension draining out of him. It still hurt that one of his closest friends believed that about him, but John was used to being disappointed in life. "Thank you. Does that mean I can go see him now?"

"In a moment," Kate said. She looked at the Scot for second and he sighed, the door closing. "Thank you." He turned to John. "If you don't mind, I'd like you to tell Carson of anything you noticed with Rodney. I know we discussed part of it, but I believe it will help him treat him."

Nodding slowly, he took a seat. "Have you told him what I already told you, or should I list everything?"

"Please, tell him your observations. I didn't get the chance to go into much detail."

Nodding, John spent the next half-hour going over, point by point, every strange reaction, every avoidance, and the few times he had managed to get real information, what he had observed. "And that's pretty much it. He was teetering on the edge of depression and more, but didn't want to admit it, and I wasn't willing—yet—to push it. I wanted to try and get him to open up first, since it's easier to treat that way, but I hadn't had the chance yet, not really."

Carson had been writing notes throughout John's monologue. He nodded, adding a few more lines. "Were you planning to share any of this information with Kate or myself?"

"Yes, eventually. Like I said, I was planning to make one more attempt tonight to try and get him to talk willingly. If he didn't, I was going to come to you. And if he did, he would have been the one to come to you, or we both would."

Carson nodded again. "Thank you, Colonel."

"Whether you believe it or not, I'm as much, if not more, worried about him as you are. I was too busy dealing with my own recovery, or I would have dealt with this earlier."

"We are grateful for your help, John," Kate said, "and your willingness to share your insights. I believe he can go and visit Rodney before he goes to his meeting with Elizabeth. Correct?"

Carson nodded. "Yes."

John was torn between being happy he could finally—finally!—get to Rodney, but devastated at Carson's reactions. So he stood, keeping his face blank. "Thanks. Where can I find him?"

"Iso room three."

"Thanks." He slipped out quickly, not willing to take the censure any longer. He found Rodney's room, and was grateful there was no one else around at the moment, although his lover was still unconscious. He brushed his hand across Rodney's forehead. "Hey, buddy. Sorry it took me so long to get here. I had a few things I needed to get cleared up. They tell me you're not supposed to be this out of it from the sedative, so why don't you show me those baby blues?"

John knew not to expect Rodney to respond so easily, but it still hurt at how far this had gotten. He just wanted to wrap himself around his lover and hold him.

He pulled up a chair, and started to talk. He didn't know what was wrong, but he couldn't hold the man like he wanted, so this was the best comfort he could offer. Usually Carson would ensure they weren't disturbed, or if they were, it was him. Now though... now he knew he couldn't take the chance. So he talked until his voiced started to hurt, about nothing, about Jameson and Ronon, about anything that came to mind.

There was a soft knock on the door before it opened, Carson stepping through. "Any change?"

He shook his head, clearing his throat. "No. And it scares the hell out of me."

"We'll keep working until we figure out what's wrong."

John turned his attention back to Rodney. "It's like he just slipped away from us."

"Aye. It's like we lost him in the flashback."

Swallowing hard, John let his hand rest on Rodney's stroking absently with his thumb. "Please come back. I can't do this without you." He wasn't aware he was talking out loud again until he caught an odd look from Carson. Sighing, he let his hand drop, and fought the urge to scream.

"While I don'na understand why you did it, Kate assures me that you really did not mean him any harm. I find it hard to believe given the extent of the injuries, but I also realize that I may have been…wrong and have over-reacted."

"I would never hurt him, Carson." John kept his eyes on Rodney. "Whether you believe it or not, pain isn't something I'm into, and neither is he, most of the time. This was an unusual case—well, his ass was anyway. The bruises, as I'm sure the nurses told you, were mostly shallow, except for the one on his shoulder. That's the only one I keep on him pretty much all the time."

"Aye. Sara confirmed that in her report."

"You've never been marked, have you? Or had the urge to mark anyone else?"

Carson shook his head. "No. Never came up."

He let his vision go a little unfocused. "It's...hard to explain. Maybe it wouldn't be so necessary if we could openly be together all the time. But knowing he's wearing my mark, that he accepted it willingly along with everything that comes with it, is almost necessary now. I start to get antsy when I know it's been long enough since we were last together that it's started to fade, and he gets downright pissy."

Carson shifted on his feet. "I'll leave you here for a bit before I come to do a few more tests. If you leave before I come back, swing by my office or let Sara know."

Looking up, John swallowed again. "Carson... God you know I would never hurt him... Not like that."

Beckett let out a long breath before he turned back to John. "I just find it hard to believe that Rodney, our Rodney, would ask you to do something like that. Kate assures me that it was perfectly normal within the bounds of your current relationship. I wish I could be that certain. Events change people, John, and the last one certainly qualifies as a life-changing event."

"I won't disagree with you there, but...I would still never hurt him. Tell you what, download some information on BDSM—and not just the shit out there about wild parties and horror stories. There are a few books out there—and if you don't want my recommendations, I'm willing to bet Kate can give you some—that talk about how it works in a real relationship, full time. Since you're our doctor, and, I hope, still our friend, it might not be a bad idea to educate you a little, so this doesn't happen again. I don't think my nerves can take it."

Carson nodded. "Fair enough. I'll ask, Kate."

"Thank you." And hey, maybe it would open Carson's eyes a little. If ever there was anyone in need of some kinky sex, it was Beckett.

"I'll be back in a bit."

"He's going to get better right?" John returned his attention to his lover. He said it quietly, so he wasn't even sure if Carson had heard him.

"Bloody git, better. I have some yelling I need to get out of my system and he's the intended target."

John huffed. "Go easy on him. He's had a rough couple of weeks, and when he needed me most, I was down for the count."

Carson sighed. "We all were, it seems. I'll be back."

This time John let him go. He stayed there, talking again quietly for a while. When his watched beeped, he stood up reluctantly. Glancing around, he made sure there was no one else around and pressed a fast kiss to Rodney's lips. "Hey, buddy. I have to go meet with Elizabeth to try and fix at least one of my current problems. But I'll be back later. Love you."

And Rodney's head moved slightly, tilting to the side, toward John.

"Rodney...?" All thoughts of meetings went straight out of his head. "Come on, open those eyes for me. Come back from wherever you've been hiding."

He didn't move again, his breathing didn’t change, but John knew something was different.

Even though his voice was already shot, John started talking again, sliding their fingers together. "So, I cleared up the whole misunderstanding with Carson, at least for now. Had a long talk with Kate, and she explained a few things to him. I've even convinced him to read up on BDSM so it doesn't happen again. And..."

And there was slight pressure on his hand.

John squeezed back, continuing to ramble. "Did I tell you I got an e-mail from Harry and Peter? They want us to send pictures, so we have to find some place that won't give away classified information. The club is doing well, and we're invited to come stay with them any time we want. They want to come visit us, but I told them as much as I'd love it, the brass doesn't look too fondly upon inviting civilians out to top secret military bases. That's when they told me they would settle for pictures...for now."

A shift of muscle, another press of fingers, and the barest hint of blue staring at him.

Smiling softly, John just kept on talking. He figured it seemed to be working, so why mess with a good thing. "Teyla is excited I'm up and about again. I think she's secretly looking forward to kicking my ass again. She looks all sweet and innocent, but she gets a mad gleam in her eye when she picks up those sticks. I can hold my own for a while against her now, but every session still ends with me on my ass. The day I finally beat her, you will be able to hear me crowing from the top of every tower in Atlantis."

John could see Rodney trying to focus on him, on his face, confusion filling out his features.

Using his free hand, John traced a finger down his cheek and over his jaw. "Hi there."

"Really here." The words were barely audible, but Rodney was back.

"Yeah, buddy. I'm really here. You gave us quite the scare."

There was a whimper in the back of Rodney's throat and John leaned closer.

"Shhh. S'okay. It's okay now, Rodney. I'm here." He brushed his lips across Rodney's forehead, his eyes, his lips.

"Gone."

"No. Not gone. I'm here, whole, and yours. Always yours."

"Nothing left."

John squeezed his hand hard. "You have me."

Rodney shifted, rolling toward John, tugging at the IV in his arm, nearly dislodging it.

Mentally telling the door to open for Carson and no one else, John climbed into the bed, pushing down into Rodney, claiming his mouth. "God, Rodney, oh God, I'm sorry. Love you so much..."

Arms wrapped around him and John could feel the tremors in his lover's body.

"It's okay. You're back now, and I'm here. I'll take care of you now."

John felt the nod, felt Rodney's arms tighten down holding him close.

"In a minute I'm going to call for Carson, since I don't know what sent you into that spell, and I want him to check you over. I'll stay here while he does, and I want you to answer all his questions."

Rodney whimpered, shaking his head. One step forward, one step back. This had to change.

Sitting up enough to cup Rodney's face, John gave him a hard look. "I wasn't asking. You will submit to an exam, and you will answer his questions. Truthfully. No more of this 'fine' shit we both know is a lie."

It took a long moment, but Rodney finally nodded. "Okay."

"Good boy." John murmured it before giving Rodney another sweet kiss.

Rodney returned the kiss, definitely weaker than normal, but John wasn't going to complain.

With a sigh, he slipped off the bed. "I'm going to call him in now. With any luck, he won't keep you here too long."

Rodney closed his eyes and nodded.

Unlocking the door, John stuck his head out, catching a passing nurse, one whose name he didn't know. "Excuse me? Could you tell Doctor Beckett McKay just woke up?"

She tapped her radio, relaying the information immediately. "He's on his way."

"Thanks." He shot her a smile and slipped back into the room, moving back to Rodney's bedside. Before he could say anything, the Scot almost careened into the room. "Hey, Doc, look who decided to join us."

"Rodney, lad, how are you feeling?" Carson asked, his hands on Rodney's wrists, checking his vitals before flashing the light in his eyes.

When his lover didn't answer, John took his hand and squeezed it. "Rodney..."

"Tired," came the reply, slow but truthful at least.

He swiped a thumb across his lover's hand in approval.

If Carson noticed the gesture he didn't comment, still focused on the scientist. "Aye, I can imagine you are. Does anything hurt? Your head?"

This time, John noticed Rodney didn't need to be reminded, although he did take his time.

"No. Little confused."

"Confused?" John couldn't help jumping in. That one threw him. "About what?"

"How…what happened?"

"That's what we're hoping you could tell us. You were here for a check-up, and fell into a flashback. From there you just...slipped away from us."

"You were gone," Rodney said quietly, looking up at John with wide eyes.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat. Damn, so being dragged away was what... No. There was nothing to be gained by second-guessing or playing 'what-if'. "No. Never. We had a little misunderstanding, but that's all cleared up now. I will never leave you alone."

"Rodney, what else do you remember?" Carson's voice was quiet as if he didn't want to spook the other man.

John squeezed his hand again, trying to be encouraging.

It took a minute again for Rodney to put his thoughts into words. "Yelling. Can't make out words."

"Us yelling? Or from memory?"

"I…I don't know. Voices run together."

Ignoring Carson for the moment, John caressed his lover's face again, smiling a little when Rodney leaned into it. "We'll help you figure it out—and make them stop. I promise."

"Okay." Rodney closed his eyes for a few seconds before looking up at John again. "How did I get here?"

"They were trying to sedate you when you started to fight them. Instead of just calming down, you went into a, a coma for lack of a better word. Carson moved you in here after that."

Rodney thought for a moment. "And before that?"

John glanced over at Carson. He hadn't been here for that.

"Rodney, what's the last thing you remember clearly?"

When his lover hesitated, John gently turned his face so they were eye-to-eye, adding in caresses. "Tell him."

"Balcony. I was talking to John on a balcony."

John felt his eyes go wide. "Balcony... But that was... last night, before you went to bed. God..."

"I was so tired," Rodney said. "Remember that."

John looked up at Carson. "Is that... okay? Normal? What's wrong with him?"

Carson shook his head, concentrating on Rodney instead. "What do you mean you were tired? Unusually so?"

Rodney shrugged. "More than sleepy tired, if that makes sense."

"Heavy? Like your limbs weigh twice as much? Like the effort of moving is almost too much to bear?" John hooked the chair with his ankle and pulled it close enough to sit next to the bed.

"Maybe." Rodney didn't sound certain.

He wanted to wrap his arms around his lover and comfort him, hold him. "How would you describe it?"

Rodney shrugged. "Tired. Everything takes too much effort."

Carson was watching him intently. "And how long has that been going on?"

Another shrug. "Week or two, maybe more. Wasn't paying attention."

"And why didn'a you come to me then?"

Rodney shifted on the bed. "You were busy."

Carson shook his head. "I asked you several times how you were doing, and you kept telling me you were fine."

"You had bigger issues to deal with."

John squeezed his hand, sighing softly. "You didn't say anything because of me. Ah, Rodney..."

"More important," Rodney said, turning to John.

He shook his head, caressing Rodney's face again. "No. Not true at all..."

Rodney's eyes closed and he leaned into John's touch, releasing a long, shaky breath.

"It's okay, Rodney. We'll get you fixed now. I promise."

Carson's eyes were thoughtful, resting on Rodney's face, most likely seeing the paleness, the tiredness that was so evident now that he was looking for it. "Have you been sleeping well, Rodney?"

It took a minute and another squeeze of John's hand to get an answer. "I sleep when I can't stand anymore."

Growling softly, John caught his attention again. "Why didn't you tell me that? You know I would have helped."

"Injured."

"Doesn't matter."

"Couldn't hurt you more."

"You wouldn't." For the moment ignoring Carson, John stood so he could lean in and kiss Rodney softly. "I promise, I won't let you. I know my own limits."

"I already had. Couldn't hurt you more."

"You didn't hurt me. It was not your fault."

"If I hadn't found that power source we wouldn't have been there."

"Yes, we would have. The plants, remember? And there was no way for you to know there were people hiding there, or that they would react that way to us. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault."

But John could tell that Rodney wasn't really listening, wasn't hearing, his gaze fixed on the far wall.

He gripped his lover's face, forcing him to pay attention. "Rodney. Look at me."

"Please…tired."

Carson spoke up, his tone carefully neutral, but firm. "Listen to John."

"Don't give me that. Look at me." John had let this go on long enough, and he wasn't going to waste another opportunity—especially since he actually had back-up at the moment. "You need to stop blaming yourself for things you had no control over. Yes, it was a horrible situation. Yes, I was injured—as were everyone else on that mission. Yes, I hate that it happened. But there was nothing—nothing—you could have done differently to prevent it. As it was, you did an amazing job with what little resources and time you had. You got us rescued. You ensured they didn't kill us. You blew the jamming field."

Rodney's eyes were wide, fixed on John. "Wasn't enough. Should—"

"No. There is no should anything. It was enough, Rodney. You did the best you could. You are one person, and I will not allow you to carry the weight of what happened any more."

"They almost killed you and I let them!"

"No. They tortured me, and there was nothing you or anyone of us who had been captured could do about it. It didn't matter what you said or didn't say, did or didn't do. You were an excuse to hurt me. I was a way to hurt you. There was absolutely nothing you could have done differently."

Rodney shook his head, his eyes closing again.

"Rodney." John put a note of command in his voice.

"Please, John, no…" Rodney was trembling.

"Open your eyes. I've given you the space to come to terms with this on your own, and you didn't. Now you're going to listen to me."

Carson had stepped away, standing by the door talking quietly into his radio.

"John…" Rodney whispered, but obeyed, his blue eyes opening once again.

Curving his fingers around Rodney's face, John let his expression soften. "You're hurting, taking on more responsibility for what happened than is rightfully yours. You did your job. You got us out."

"No. Parrish—"

"Did his job as well. And I won't take that credit away from him, but I'm not allowing you to give him yours, either."

"But—"

"No buts."

Rodney finally fell silent, a strange despair on his face, but no longer tinted with the stubbornness and determination from earlier.

Stroking his lover's cheek, John smiled gently. "I'm not trying to hurt you, love. It wasn't your fault. I'm going to keep saying it, over and over, until you believe me."

"Tired of fighting."

"I know you are, and I am, too. But I won't let you feel like you're to blame for what happened. I can't stand to see you hurting like this."

Rodney sighed again, leaning into John's hand.

"Love you." John whispered it softly, wishing he could take all the weight his scientist was carrying.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry about. I'm the one who's sorry. Sorry I couldn't shield you from what happened, sorry I can't make you believe me that it isn't your fault."

"I’m sorry I let it go on so long."

"That's in the past now. We're going to fix it now. I promise."

"Okay."

John looked up as Carson cleared his throat. John had forgotten he was here.

"Sorry to interrupt, but Kate is on her way and she'd like to sit down with Rodney if he's up for it."

John nodded. "I think that's a good idea."

"Aye. As do I. You have about five minutes before she'll be here."

Turning back to his lover, John leaned in to kiss him softly. "Don't give her a hard time. She can help, if you let her. Answer her questions, listen to what she has to say."

"But—"

"But what?"

"Can't we just move on?"

John grinned slightly. "Yes. Which is why I'm going to let her talk to you." He let his expression turn more serious. "You need help, Rodney, and I don't think I can give you everything you need to get past this. I trust her. I want you to do the same."

He frowned. "So tired of all of this."

"Me, too. So let's get it taken care of once and for all. Talk to her. Listen to what she has to say. And, if Carson releases you tonight, we'll grab dinner and chat before bed. I think you need a good night's sleep."

The door opened slowly and Kate poked her head in, offering a smile as she stepped inside. She nodded to Carson before moving to the bed. "John, Rodney. It's good to see you back with us." Her greeting was warm, but John was a little surprised when she turned to look at him. "I'd like to talk to Rodney, if you think he's up for it."

He smiled. She wasn't kidding when she said she knew a little about BDSM relationships, and it made him relax further. "Yes. I've already told him he's not going to avoid it anymore. I'm assuming Carson will let you know what he can do physically right now, but he will talk."

"Carson already indicated that he should be up for a few short sessions today in between naps and meals." She turned a smile to Rodney. "Seems like we have a bit of catching up to do."

John caressed Rodney's face one last time. "I have my own meetings I've been putting off. I'll swing back by later, or if Carson and Kate release you, I'll find you for dinner."

Rodney shifted on the bed, glancing between John and Kate, a frown on his face. "Don't I get a say in this?"

"No." He smiled at his lover. "I'm taking care of you now. And this is what you need."

Rodney opened his mouth to protest, but quickly closed it without saying a word, nodding reluctantly instead.

Leaning down again, John whispered "good boy" in Rodney's ear, then kissed him gently.

It only took a beat before Rodney responded, kissing John back, opening his mouth to let John's tongue dart in for a brief moment before Sheppard finally pulled away.

"You kids have fun. No sharing embarrassing stories without me." He smiled, glad to see a small, tiny, answering grin from his lover. It was gone quickly, but it was a start.

"We're not guaranteeing anything, John," Kate said with her own smile. "We'll let you know as soon as Rodney's ready to be released."

'Thanks." He squeezed Rodney's hand one last time, and then forced himself to move away. He saw Carson was giving all three of them odd looks, but figured Kate would straighten him out eventually. He made a mental note to tell her about the books, too, in case Carson forgot.

Beckett stepped aside to let him pass and John nodded as he moved into the hallway, surprised to find Lorne waiting down the hall.

"Ah, Major. I was just going to come looking for you. Nice timing."

"Thought we could talk on the way to see Doctor Weir."

"Perfect. I had a chance to chat with Jameson earlier, and he's pretty much confirmed Ronon's story, although he mentioned there was a full report. Do you have a copy I can look over?"

"Yes. It seems he was a busy bee when he woke up this morning. Demanded a laptop to write his report." Lorne handed over a file. "Nothing we didn't already know."

"Lovely. As soon as he's up and about—or at least on fewer drugs—get his paperwork ready for a transfer back to the SGC. He isn't happy here. Give him the option to refuse if he wants, but I don't really think Atlantis is a good fit for him."

Lorne handed over another file. "Already done."

"Nice. You didn't get hit by an Ancient psychic machine or anything did you?" John shot him a grin.

"Given the tone of the report, I figured a transfer would be the next request—from either you or him."

Nodding, John skimmed the report, making sure there were no surprises. "Anything else I need to know before we go in there?"

"Doctor Weir is not happy about the current state of affairs."

John gave his second a wry smile. "Neither am I quite frankly. If you have any ideas on how to fix this, I'm open to suggestions."

Lorne sighed, his pace slowing. "A lecture or some kind of announcement is only going to make matters worse, in my opinion."

John slowed his pace as well. "I agree. Making a defensive move of any kind will only serve to reinforce their opinions. Up until now, I've either ignored it or, if I heard something directly, have tried to explain my point and offer my reasoning. But that's obviously not working as well as I had hoped."

"Most of the…discussion has been on your choices, especially on Atlantis' flagship team. While there are other issues that are growing, I think that needs to be addressed initially."

Running a hand through his hair, John let out a frustrated huff. "And while I'm willing to be flexible on a lot of things, the choice of my team isn't one of them."

"Do you think you'd be up for a little…face off?"

John glanced over, a bit surprised. "What kind of face off?"

Lorne slowed again, nearly to a stop. "I know we're all still recovering from the last mission, but it might be interesting to pit your team against a few of the louder dissenters. A training exercise of sorts on the mainland. Hell, maybe it's even a training exercise disguised as a paintball game."

John leaned against the wall, intrigued. "It would have to be a series of obstacles, and would need to include something you have to think your way out of. One of the more common complaints I hear is about putting science staff on the teams. McKay can't shoot for shit. That's not why I have him on my team. But if the... games or whatever... had something that needed that kind of specialty..."

"Maybe we can get a handful of scientists to create a problem to be solved?"

"That could work. We could put Zelenka in charge of that. Everyone knows him and McKay are pretty close intelligence-wise, and competitive enough that Radek wouldn't tip off McKay as to the problem or solutions ahead of time."

"So there's one goal and all the teams need to work to achieve it. We can set up a few other teams to be the 'angry natives'."

John nodded slowly, grinning. "Set it up as a series of obstacles the team has to get through to reach the goal. First team through wins. And every member has to make it through 'alive' to win. Lose a member, and you're disqualified."

"And the 'angry natives' can use whatever means to necessary to side-track the participants—not deadly force, of course."

"That would be where the paintballs come in. Equip everyone with one. Splatters count as wounds, direct hits are kills."

"Then there's the usual kidnap issues we deal with, as well. Teams would have to retrieve their captured members before they can finish."

John smiled widely. "Lorne, you are a genius. All right, we'll need to put someone in charge of designing the course to work with Zelenka. You and I are both 'suspect' so if we do it, there will be claims of cheating afterwards. We need someone whom everyone will consider neutral."

"Maybe ask Doctor Weir to oversee and get a list of volunteers to design the challenge?"

John pushed off from the wall and started for Weir's office again. "And this gives us something to present to her today. Maybe we—and by we I mean I—won't get chewed out too badly after all. I'd say we limit the participants to five, four-man teams. That's a good amount for competition, but no so many that we'll be tripping over each other."

"And maybe we can pick five locations for the jumper landings. All close, but not too close. We can draw straws for who gets which site."

"Perfect. Each jumper and each team need to be outfitted identically, and each team would need to come up against the same obstacles and the same number of 'angry natives'. I want to be sure there are no questions later as to whether or not it was fair."

"Well, you'd all be after the same goal, so you'd be taking the same readings…we can work it out."

Nodding again, John was already starting to plan out how it could work. He was silent, lost in thought, until they got to Elizabeth's office.

"Colonel, Major," Weir greeted them, the door sliding shut as soon as they entered the room. "I thought I was going to have to find you soon."

"Sorry, my fault." John dropped into his usual chair. "I was getting ready to head out when McKay woke up. He was disoriented, so I stayed long enough to determine his status and turn him over to Kate and Carson."

"And his status is…"

"Awake, but really out of it. Last thing he remembers clearly was finding me playing hooky on a balcony early yesterday evening. Said all he remembered after that was being tired, and yelling. Kate was going to work with him, and Carson is keeping an eye on him. I think he put him on the same medication they have me on at the moment."

Elizabeth's eyes widened, her expression getting a little pinched. "I didn't realize he was so bad. He seemed fine…apart from his tantrums as of late."

John sighed. "He was hiding a lot of it apparently, but most of his problems of late most likely stem from this. Hopefully once we get it under control, he'll be back to our usual bitchy geek."

She nodded, lips forming a thin line as she straightened the few items on her Spartan desk. "But we're not here to discuss Rodney. I'd like an update on the incident between Mister Dex and Major Jameson."

John shook his head. "I'm afraid the news there isn't as good. I'm assuming you've read the report Dex filed. Jameson pretty much confirmed it, both verbally and in writing. Ronon took it too far, yes, but he was provoked."

"John, he was a member of the Satedan military. He knows what's right and wrong and when to refrain from injuring someone."

"I don't disagree with you. He does know better, and being a Runner for seven years doesn't change that. I do think he needs to be disciplined in some way, but I also don't think it should be too harsh, and I think we should make it public knowledge that it was provoked. From the report Jameson filed, the comments were more than a little derogatory towards people Ronon respects, and they were made repeatedly in his hearing until they had an effect. Jameson just wasn't expecting to be so overpowered. My best guess reading between the lines is that he and his buddies were hoping this would provide an excuse to beat Ronon into the ground and claim self-defense. Only it backfired on them."

"They've trained with him. How exactly did they think it would go their way?"

He scowled. "From the reports there were five of them. There are a few battered Marines who weren't bad enough for the infirmary and who aren't owning up to where they got the bruises. I assume they cut and run and left Jameson to fend for himself when they realized they couldn't even take him as a group."

"What do you plan to do about this?"

"Ronon will get a formal reprimand, and I've already warned him that if it happens again, he's to call me, and not pound people into the ground. As for the greater problem, Major Lorne proved yet again that he is the best second in command I could have asked for. Lorne, why don't you explain your idea?"

Lorne sent a glance to Sheppard, but proceeded to outline his plan for the training sessions on the mainland. It took about twenty minutes—including fielding all of Elizabeth's questions—but by the end she was nodding.

"I think Zelenka should head the science portion of the obstacle course, and I'll find someone neutral to handle the military end. I'll have both of them, along with you, stay at the final destination to act as judges and arbitrators should any questions arise."

"Maybe I should handle that as well. Make sure you're completely out of the loop. I can speak with Doctor Zelenka, too. But are you going to be up for this?"

"Good idea. And yes. By the time we get this all set up, and teams signed up, etc., it will be at least a week if not more. By then I'll be back up to near enough full health that it won't be a problem. Put my team down as one of the competitors. This will be a good chance to work together, since we haven't gone out with Ronon on an official mission yet."

"Mine, too, ma'am," Lorne said, getting a nod from Elizabeth in response as she jotted notes on her PDA.

"Getting back to the reason for the meeting…I do have one other question: what are you planning on doing with Jameson? You do know he's well connected back on Earth, correct?"

John made a face. That he hadn't counted on. "How well connected? I had planned to offer him a transfer, no questions asked. Lorne already drew up the paperwork for me."

"Well connected. His father is a General attached to the Pentagon."

"Just perfect." John rolled his eyes. "I had wondered how someone like him had made it this far, not to mention getting assigned to a base like this."

"General O'Neill handled much of the staffing."

"Huh. Wouldn't have pegged him as one to play favorites. But all this could be moot. Jameson could accept the transfer and we'll be done with him at least. And with a little luck, this demonstration will shut the rest of my dissenters up."

"I guess we'll have to see." Elizabeth glanced at her watch briefly before looking up again. "Was there anything we needed to cover?"

He shook his head, smiling a little. "I think that's enough for now. I can only handle so many problems at a time, so if any Genii try to invade or Wraith try to attack, we'll have to tell them to take a number and wait in line."

Elizabeth chuckled. "I've had my fill of both to last a lifetime. I'll update you tomorrow on the status of this training mission. I like this idea and I think it will help to promote multi-discipline teams and improve morale."

"I hope so. I plan to kick a little ass... Sorry, Lorne. If it makes you feel better, I won't gloat in front of you."

"We'll see. I have some science muscle on my team, too."

John grinned. He was glad to hear Lorne had come around pretty thoroughly in his opinion about the science staff. "We could make a side wager. No matter the outcome, whichever of us gets there first does the other's paperwork for a month."

"Gentlemen, I think you might want to take this outside…" Elizabeth said, a smile on her face.

Rising, John included her in his grin. "Hey, talking it up is part of the fun."

She shook her head and waved them to get out of her office, her attention already half on whatever she was working on.

As they moved out into the control room, John shared a smile with Lorne. "Good job, Major. It really is a good idea."

"Thanks, sir. I'm just glad we had an idea to do something."

"Me, too. If you think of anything else, hunt me down. I'll be in my office for the rest of the afternoon if anything else comes up."

"No PT?"

Blinking, John ran his hand though his hair. "Honestly? I don't actually remember if I still need to do it today." He hit his radio. "Sheppard to infirmary."

"Hayes here, Colonel. What's the emergency?"

"No emergency. I just realized in all the fuss today, I can't remember if I still need to come in for PT. Are you expecting me?"

"I don't know, Colonel. You probably need to check with the therapist directly."

"Would you mind putting me through to him?"

"I'm in the middle of something, besides it is just a radio call away…"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. Sheppard out." He closed the channel and opened a new one. "Sheppard to Hyland."

"Hyland, here. Will you be joining me today, Colonel?"

John laughed ruefully. "That's actually what I was calling about. I couldn't remember if I still had an appointment or not."

"Daily appointments generally are every day."

"I was actually on my way to see you this morning to get it out of the way, when everything sort of blew up on me. Do you have time now? If I don't come while I'm thinking about it, I know I'll get caught up in something else and forget again."

"Bring sweats. I want you jogging. Hyland out."

John bounced on his toes as he signed off. "God, he's going to let me jog. All right, I'll catch you later, Lorne. Just page me if you need me and can't find me."

"Will do and have fun, sir."

With a bounce in his step, John bee-lined for his room. He couldn't wait to get back up to full health, and jogging was one of the things he missed. All in all, for such a crappy start, this day was turning out all right.

***

Rodney talked until his mouth dried out and then he talked some more.

Kate was quiet.

She listened.

There were naps and meals and snacks throughout the day, one blending into the next, someone always with him when he was awake—Sara, Carson, Kate—always making sure he was comfortable, that he had everything he needed.

The fact that he couldn't remember what happened last night or this morning worried him. His ass felt like it did after a fucking, so he was nearly certain that had occurred, but he didn't remember the circumstances around it.

What was wrong with him?

He sighed, turning onto his side away from Sara who was sitting quietly beside the bed, reading a few files. He just wanted to go back to his room and crash, but who knew if he'd be allowed.

He hated this.

"Doctor McKay?"

He sighed. "Yes?"

"Colonel Sheppard just called down and wants to know if you're up for dinner. Doctor Beckett said it was fine if you wanted to have a quiet meal here, then head back to your room to sleep."

"Sure." Sure he'd eat. Eating meant he was normal. It didn't matter that he wasn't hungry.

She nodded, speaking quietly on the radio. About fifteen minutes later, John came in with two trays. "Hey, buddy. Grabbed all your favorites. How are you feeling?"

"Tired."

"Yeah. Kate mentioned that." He put the trays on the table by the bed. "She also said you guys had a good chat, and that you have an appointment with her every day for at least the foreseeable future."

"That's what I heard," Rodney said, shifting to sit up on the bed and using the remote to adjust the back so he had some support.

John flashed a smile at Sara, who had gotten up and, after fussing with Rodney for a moment, slipped out. Once she was gone, Sheppard took the opportunity to brush a quick kiss across Rodney's lips. "Once you get settled, I'll fill you in on my day—and lemme tell you, it's been a doozy."

"I'm guessing the labs didn't blow up or anything. I figured I'd at least hear that here."

"Nah, I'd have heard about it if they had, although I haven't been down there."

"A reverberating echo from a massive explosion is hard to miss."

John smiled. "Yeah. Even I would have noticed that. But I do have news." John proceeded to tell him about Lorne's obstacle course idea.

By the time John finished, Rodney was frowning and shaking his head. "Don't we do enough running from angry natives normally? And now you want me to pretend to do it in my spare time."

Leaning back in his chair, John propped his feet up on Rodney's bed. "I can argue with you about that, but to be honest, the reason for it isn't really training. I'm having issues with the new people not believing I know how to do my job, and questioning my decisions. By going out there and kicking their asses, I can quiet them without singling anyone out, or making it look like I'm trying too hard."

"They just need to do their jobs."

"Yes, but when every time I turn around, I've got them talking about me and my command staff, and undermining my authority, no one is going to be able to do their jobs. I'm on the edge of losing control of my base, and this is probably the best way to regain it without causing an uproar. A lot of my trouble-makers are well-connected, so it ties my hands a bit as to what options are available to me."

Rodney sighed, shaking his head as he picked at his dinner. He's eaten some of it while John talked, but there was still plenty left. "I'm sure Radek will be willing to sit in for me."

"He'll have to, since you'll be running the course with our team. I can't afford bias, so I can't have you involved in designing or administering the science portion. That's the same reason neither Lorne nor myself will be involved with the military sections. Elizabeth is even choosing her own liaison with my men to avoid any hints that I'm stacking the deck."

"Nonono." Rodney shook his head. "Radek will replace me on the team."

"No."

Rodney sighed, glancing down at his food as he moved it around his plate. "I'm guessing you read the report about my current state of mind and while Kate didn't share it with you I can tell from all the attention I've been getting and the distinct lack of sharp objects on my dinner tray, that they have me on some kind of suicide watch. I doubt playing on the mainland is part of my current permitted activities."

"You aren't on a suicide watch. I just figured we could share a knife." He paused, looking at Rodney carefully. "Do you think you need to be?"

Rodney sighed again. "I didn't get stupid all of a sudden. I've done this before, John. I know the routine."

"And I know you. Kate didn't mention that to me, and I'm pretty sure she would have. You aren't a danger to yourself, you're just having a hard time dealing with things right now."

"Yeah. I cracked." Rodney shoved away the tray, suddenly nauseous with the thought of eating anything more.

Sitting up, John gave him an intense look, twining their fingers together. "No more so than I did. As I recall, you had to come hold me in Kate's office until I came back from Lala land. This is normal, Rodney. Why do you think all soldiers are required to go through extensive psych evals after every big mission? We dropped the ball on you, and that's our fault, not yours."

"It doesn't feel normal."

"I know it doesn't, not yet. But we'll get you there. The training run won't be for at least a week or two, though, and in the meantime you have some heavy sessions with Kate—and me—in your future. By then, you'll be ready to get out and stretch your muscles a little. You can do this."

With John? Rodney looked up at that statement, narrowing his eyes. "Heavy sessions?"

The look he got in response was full of a lot of things—lust, promise, trust, need, and, above all, love.

"John, what do you mean? Please, I’m really not up for surprises right now."

Lips quirking, his lover pulled him in for another quick kiss. "I mean you and I need to reconnect. You needed me to be your top, and I wasn't, couldn't while I was injured. I'm going to fix that now."

"Oh." Rodney felt a little of the panic leave him. "Do you know when I can go home?"

"Hopefully, tonight. Kate said if you got enough of dinner down, and Carson had no objections, she would recommend releasing you tonight with the understanding that you won't be allowed to spend it alone. She knows a lot more about our type of relationship than I ever suspected. I'm getting the distinct 'top' vibe off her, now that she knows about us."

"She…oh." Rodney felt his cheeks flush.

"She definitely knows the etiquette about dealing with someone else's sub." John's grin was more than a little possessive. "Actually, I feel a lot better talking to her, and sending you to her."

Rodney sighed. So that was what that little thing had been about earlier today. "Can we just go home?"

In response, Sheppard tapped his radio, calling for Kate.

Given John's reaction, it took a minute for her to respond.

After a quick consultation, it sounded like Heightmeyer and Beckett were coming down to make a decision. John sat back and nodded at Rodney's tray. "It will probably help our case for releasing you if you could eat a little more. Even just a few more bites."

"I’m really not hungry and I ate more than I did before."

He nodded. "Okay. I have a few things in my room, if you change your mind later."

They sat quietly for a few minutes until there was a brief knock and Kate opened the door, offering a smile as she entered. "John, Rodney. How are we feeling tonight?"

"He's still tired, and his appetite isn't back yet. But he did eat a little." John smiled over at Rodney.

"I can see that," Kate said, stopping next to the bed, and looking Rodney over carefully. "You look like you have some more color than you did earlier. Did you get any rest after I left?"

Rodney shrugged. "Not really. Kept waking up every time Sara shifted in the chair."

“He would sleep better in his own room. Or, better yet, mine.” John was still holding his hand, and he started to trace circles on the back of it with his thumb.

Kate made a non-committal noise. “I won’t disagree with you, but we’ll also need Carson’s opinion, at least medically.”

"But if it were your decision?"

"If it were up to me entirely, yes, I'd release you. I think mentally you need the familiarity of your room, and the comfort it provides—as well as the...unsupervised company."

"Privacy would be nice."

She started to say more, when the door opened again and Carson came in. Smiling, she made room for him beside the bed. "We were just saying we needed you here, since Rodney would very much like to be released."

"Would he now?" Carson said as he approached the bed, his eyes shifting between everyone.

She nodded, although John stayed quiet, just watching. "From my end, he would probably do better in his own room. But I told them both that his physical condition would factor in. If you don't think he's up for it..."

"I think he needs rest," Carson began, meeting Rodney's eyes. "I'd rather have him here where I can keep an eye on him and his levels, but there's no reason—physically—why he canna be released."

John finally jumped in. "Resting is exactly what he's going to be doing."

Carson's expression closed off a little when he turned toward John. "Which is what he's doing here as well."

John didn't drop his eyes. "Not well. He's dozed, but he said himself he woke back up every time someone came in or out of the room, or shifted in a chair."

"Please, Carson," Rodney said. "I'll come back in the morning if you want."

Kate nodded. "Actually, I would insist on that as well. I think Doctor Beckett should keep an eye on his physical health and Rodney should check in here each morning before coming to my office. And that has the added benefit of leaving him with some time in the afternoons to himself."

"Does that mean I can go now?"

They all looked at Carson.

He looked thoughtful for a long moment before nodding. "I'll agree but Rodney will report to me each morning and evening for a medical check. He can't miss any scheduled appointments. And he is off-duty until this is resolved to our satisfaction."

Rodney was already nodding before Carson was done. "Yes, fine."

"Deal." John rose. "I'll grab his clothes and you can do whatever you need to do to get him checked out."

Rodney's eyes followed John as he strode out, leaving him with Kate and Carson. "Thank you."

Kate smiled at him. "I know you don't believe it yet, but John is right when he tells you this is normal, and fixable. We'll have to back to yourself in no time."

He shrugged, resigned to the fact that he had no control over the situation. "I'm just tired and want this to be over with already."

She patted his arm. "I know. And it will be. Soon. Just keep in mind that the more determined you are to fix it, the more willing you are to follow advice and get back to normal, the faster it will happen."

Rodney sighed and nodded, his eyes sliding away.

She patted his arm again. "I'll see you tomorrow. If you need me for anything before then, feel free to page me."

"I know. You certainly told me enough times."

Laughing lightly, she nodded her head and slipped out, leaving Rodney with Carson.

Rodney glanced at his friend, seeing his closed and tight expression. "Please don't yell at me again. I’m not sure I can deal with that right now."

He sat down, giving Rodney an intense stare. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Okay with what? Am I okay with being some kind of mental case? No, not really. I want my life back."

"I did'na mean that, and I agree with Kate—we'll have you right as rain in no time. I meant... I know you and John are... But you were battered pretty badly, Rodney. I don't like the idea of releasing you into a potentially abusive situation. I've spoken with Kate, and I understand this is an area I don't know much about, but I do know injuries..."

"Battered?" Rodney looked at Carson for a long moment before realization dawned. Oh. That. He sighed, his tone resigned. "I'm fine, Carson. Really. It wasn't anything I didn't deserve or ask for."

The doctor's eyebrows both went up. "Deserved?"

Rodney sighed, seeing his chance of leaving the infirmary slip away. "It's a long story that I've explained to Kate already."

Carson looked him over very carefully. "All right. But I'll be checking you carefully for new injuries, and if I find any, you had better have a bloody good excuse for them. Understand?"

He nodded. "John wouldn't hurt me, Carson."

"We'll see." He seemed, if not content at least willing, to leave it at that for now. Which was a good thing, since John returned with his clothes.

John shot him a questioning look, but Rodney simply dropped his gaze. He couldn't do this now.

A moment later, his lover's hand was caressing his arm. "Why don't you get dressed so we can get you home and in bed?"

Rodney glanced at Carson who was watching the two of them carefully. "I can still go home?"

"Aye. Just be here tomorrow bright and early." Carson sighed.

John looked back and forth between them, but apparently decided to just ignore the tension. "Can he walk out, or should I grab a wheelchair?"

"He should be fine walking. There's nothing wrong with his legs."

Rodney huffed and reached for his clothes. No, there was nothing wrong with his legs, just his head.

With John's help it didn't take him long to get dressed and, with more hard looks from Carson, they wandered out. Neither of them said anything until they were back at John's room, the door sliding shut behind them. Then Rodney found himself in his lover's arms being kissed breathless.

Rodney melted against John, needing the contact, the grounding. He moaned, opening his mouth to let John's tongue inside, submitting to whatever John would give him.

He was pushed gently against the wall, hands skimming under his shirt as John deepened the kiss.

His arms wrapped around John, tugging him closer. Rodney could feel his body trembling, his mind a whirlwind of emotions.

Releasing his mouth, John kissed and licked his way down Rodney's neck. "Let go. Let me love you. Let me take care of you."

Rodney nodded, burying his face against John's neck.

His clothes were rapidly stripped from his body, leaving him hard and panting and on display for his lover. "Beautiful," John whispered.

"John, please…" he whispered, wanting the contact again, needing it.

Immediately John's hands were back on him, touching him everywhere. "Bed. Now. Hands above your head, pillow under your ass, legs as far apart as you can get them."

Rodney hands were at John's sides, fingers searching for skin.

John caught his hands and held them, kissing him again briefly before stepping back. "Bed."

Whimpering at the loss of contact, Rodney finally got himself moving to the bed, positioning himself the way John requested, his heart-rate increasing as his arousal grew.

John purred his approval, snapping cuffs on all four of his limbs and locking them to the bed.

Rodney tugged at the restraints, his breath catching in his throat.

John had lost his shirt, but he was still wearing his pants when he joined Rodney on the bed, straddling his hips. He could feel the rough fabric of the BDUs rubbing sensitive parts, and it left him moaning. "You belong to me. You're mine. Your body is mine to play with, and it's my responsibility to take care of you."

"John…" Rodney whispered, trying to squirm, to shift upward, anything to get more contact.

His lover flicked a nipple, making him arch up. "I've been trying to give you space to be your own person—you're too brilliant to try and stifle, and I know ideas don't work on a nine-to-five type of schedule. However, you're not taking care of yourself. So I'm going to do it for you. I still won't tell you how to run your department or your experiments, but everything else is fair game."

Rodney stilled as John's words filtered in, looking up at his lover, feeling his eyes widen.

John's expression softened. "I want you to be happy, and right now, you aren't. If you have real objections to anything I want from you, I'm willing to hear them out, and, if I think you have a point, make compromises. But at the end of the day, you will submit and you will let me take care of you."

"I don't want to go through this again," Rodney whispered, clenching and unclenching his hands as he tugged at the restraints holding his arms in place.

"Neither do I. Which is why I'm not going to allow it anymore. When I ask how you are, you aren't going to lie and tell me 'fine', even if you think it's to protect me from something. You're going to tell me when there's a problem if I haven't already noticed, and then we're going to get it fixed right away."

Rodney nodded, his eyes fixed on John's face, on his serious expression. "Okay."

John ran his hands up Rodney's sides, approval on his face again. When he was down far enough, he claimed Rodney's mouth once more, pushing inside and kissing him deeply.

Rodney offered himself up, kissing John back, trying to show him what he was feeling, needing John to know.

Growling softly, John mouthed his way down Rodney's body. When he got to his cock, a ring he hadn't seen John grab was slipped on just before he was swallowed down.

"Oh…John…" he moaned, his body instinctively arching upward, but John's hands held him in place.

It felt like John was using every technique he knew to send Rodney into a haze of arousal. Tongue and teeth and hands combining to draw out long, shuddering moans.

And when Rodney didn't think he could take anymore, John pulled off, the chill of the surrounding air after that hot, wet heat making him shiver. He whimpered, his eyes opening to find John looking down at him, a possessive look in his eyes.

"Mine." It was the only warning he had before two fingers were buried inside him, tagging his prostate hard.

This time Rodney did arch, managing to drive John's fingers in deeper, a high-pitched keening moan erupting from his mouth.

Instead of withdrawing his fingers to fuck Rodney with them, John just pushed against his prostate, keeping up a steadily increasing pressure.

Rodney was lost somewhere in the sensations, caught between pain and pleasure, everything except the feel of John's hands on him, his touch, driven from his mind.

It therefore came as yet another shock to his system when the fingers disappeared altogether, pulled out as fast as they had gone in.

And for a moment, time folded in on itself, panic overtaking him. "John! No, don't go! John…oh god, John!"

"Shhh. I'm not going anywhere. Just relax. Your body is mine, and I want to play with it right now."

"John…please…don't go…please…"

Hands were on his chest, petting him, and his lover kissed at the corners of his mouth. "I'm here. I won't blindfold you so you can always see that I'm right here tonight, and you aren't alone."

Rodney was trembling, his body and mind pulled in two directions, at war with itself. He managed to wrench open his eyes to find John hovering right above him—close to him—and he whimpered again, lifting his head enough to catch John's lips in a kiss.

John lowered himself so he was pressing Rodney into the bed, taking control of the kiss immediately, his tongue sweeping the inside of Rodney's mouth, demanding his submission.

Moaning, Rodney relented and submitted, feeling some of the tension immediately fading.

Pulling off after a moment, John tilted his head to nip Rodney's ear. "Good boy. Now just lie back and give yourself up to me. I want to play."

"Just want you," Rodney whispered.

One of his nipples was rolled almost gently between John's fingers. "I'm going to watch you fall apart. Reduce you to nothing except need and arousal, unable to think of anything except me and what I'm doing to you. Then you're going to come so hard you pass out, and then we are going to sleep."

Rodney nodded, squirming slightly. Whatever John wanted.

"Very good." John was practically purring. He returned to his all-out assault on Rodney's body, seeming to choose areas at random to tease and torture before moving on to someplace new, and Rodney could never predict exactly where he would be touched next.

And Rodney gave himself up to John, watching him when he could while other times his senses were limited to what he could feel as his eyes drifted closed, lost in a sensation. John took his time, touching him, loving him, until Rodney's world was only encompassed by John—his smell, his taste, his hands, fingers, nails, tongue, teeth, and lips on him, his intense concentration as all of his energy and passion was focused on Rodney.

After what felt like years, John's fingers were pushing inside him again, slower this time, caressing him from the inside out.

Rodney watched John through half-open eyes, watched John as he watched his lubed fingers disappear inside Rodney. By this time, Rodney was so hard, so aroused and yet so relaxed and pliant in his lover's hands. Two fingers quickly became three, slowly stretching him, opening him.

He watched John as he slid his fingers out again, adding more lube to his hand before positioning his fingers once again, four digits held closely together. His free hand rested against Rodney's stomach, petting him, caressing him.

It was more of a burn than he was used to, but, after the initial resistance, Rodney had to gasp at how full it left him.

Rodney closed his eyes, forcing his body to relax, to allow John's fingers in. So full. So good. So full. So good.

"God, you're so fucking perfect..." John's tone held a note of reverence. "I need to be inside you. Now."

Rodney managed to open his eyes, holding John's gaze. "Anything," he finally managed to whisper.

His eyes were drawn to the large bulge straining against John's pants. That had to hurt. His lover, however, was watching his own fingers disappear and reappear in Rodney's body, entranced by it.

Rodney watched John, seeing the expression of arousal and delight and amazement shift over his face as he continued to finger-fuck Rodney, his four fingers slipping deeper and deeper into his ass.

"I could probably come just from doing this to you."

He moaned, his body relaxing a little further, welcoming John's hand, feeling him fill him and stretch him.

John matched his moan, pushing in a little deeper. "God... So tight..."

Rodney finally closed his eyes, feeling John touching him deep inside.

"Fuck... Rodney, I need you." He slowly withdrew his fingers, and Rodney heard him scrabbling at the buttons on his pants. Seconds later, the blunt tip of his dick was pressing in, and when he was fully seated, Rodney realized he had only pulled himself out—his pants were still on.

Rodney moaned, loving the feel of John's cock in his ass—filling him, completing him. He was so hard it hurt, endorphins barely keeping the pain at bay, but he didn't care. This was what John wanted.

John had stilled, and from his harsh breathing, he was fighting to stay in control. "When I take the ring off, you're not going to come. You're going to wait until you feel me coming deep inside you."

"Okay," he whispered. Whatever John wanted, he could do, would do.

The ring was taken off, leaving Rodney shaking with the effort of holding back his orgasm. Then John started to move.

The thrusts were long and slow, John nearly pulling out of Rodney's body before sliding back in, changing the angle after the second pass to make sure the head of his cock was running over Rodney's prostate, sending tendrils of pleasure through his body.

Gradually, John's thrusts started to speed up, getting more and more erratic. Finally, with a deep, low moan, Rodney felt him coming so deep inside he could almost taste John's come.

As the warmth spread in his ass, Rodney let go. With a strangled scream and his back arching, Rodney's orgasm overtook him, sending stream upon stream of come onto his stomach and chest, coating him as his body shook and trembled as pleasure rolled through him. John continued to ride him, milking even more come from his softening cock.

As his body finally relaxed, completely sated, Rodney slumped heavily against the bed, head lolling to the side. John collapsed on top of him with a contented sigh, smearing the come all over his own stomach, his mouth latching onto the side of Rodney's neck, pressing lazy kisses to the skin. Rodney's body twitched as his muscles continued to react to his climax, his skin over sensitized.

"Mmmmm. So good..."

Rodney was drifting somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, completely relaxed and post-coital.

"Go to sleep. I'll clean you up and unhook you in a minute, so you don't get any cramps."

He exhaled one long contented breath and let go again, trusting John to catch him and not let him fall.

***

The light was still low, barely illuminating the room the next morning when John woke, but it was more than enough for him to see his lover.

John propped himself up on his elbow and watched Rodney sleep. He was peaceful, his expression soft. It just reinforced his decision from earlier—to be Rodney’s top, his partner—and not just in the bedroom. It would be difficult since they couldn’t openly be together, but… He traced the curve of Rodney’s cheek. It was worth it.

Rodney shifted under his touch, curling in toward John, their legs tangling together a little more under the covers.

He found his favorite patch of skin on Rodney's neck with his nose, snuffling softly.

John got a contented hum in reply and Rodney shifted again, tilting his head to give John more room. Even half asleep, Rodney was submitting to John and what he wanted.

John had to wonder, not for the first time, what he had done so right to get someone like Rodney. He didn't really want to wake his lover up—he needed the sleep—but John couldn't help kissing that spot, and just breathing in Rodney's scent. His morning erection was starting to leak a little with the pleasure of it.

But when Rodney shifted again and John found McKay's hand wrapped around his cock, he knew Rodney was awake enough for a little morning fun.

Humming softly, John thrust his hips a few times into Rodney's hand, continuing to kiss his spot.

"Tell me what you want."

John thought he was imaging it at first—the words were whispered, barely loud enough for John to hear—but when Rodney's hand tightened a little, he knew it had to have been real.

He lifted his head, kissing just the corner of Rodney's mouth. He kept his voice low, knew it was already gruff with arousal. "Good morning, buddy."

"Morning," Rodney whispered, turning to catch John's lips in a lazy kiss.

"How did you sleep?" John asked it in between light nibbles.

"Good. No dreams or nightmares."

"Mmmm." John smiled, rewarding him with a slightly deeper kiss, although he broke it off before Rodney could tempt him too badly. "Good. You needed it."

"Do we have to get up?"

"Eventually. Not yet though." John found a perky nipple, already reaching up to meet his fingers. He rolled it gently, liking the soft, breathy reaction he got.

"Good," Rodney finally whispered. "Like it here."

"Mmm. Me, too. I like having you here, waking up next to you. From now on, unless there's an emergency situation or Caldwell is in town, we aren't spending any nights apart."

"Shouldn't we—"

John moved his finger back to Rodney's face, placing it over his lips. "We can talk about the new rules later. Right now, I'm enjoying lazy morning foreplay, which will lead to lazy morning sex."

Rodney's eyes widened a bit, but he nodded, opening his mouth to let John's finger slide in, swirling his tongue around it as he started sucking lightly.

John drew in a breath, feeling his smile spread. He caught and held Rodney's eyes as his lover teased him.

He returned John's smile as the fingers of his other hand gently slid up and down John's erection.

Swallowing hard, John didn't break eye contact, but couldn't help moving his hips a little. He wasn't close to coming yet, so being able to play with each other a little, to have fun in bed, was a luxury he wasn't ready to move past yet.

Sucking and humming around John's finger, Rodney continued to tease Sheppard's cock while his other hand wrapped around John's neck, fingers trailing through the short hair at the back.

John tilted his head slightly, giving Rodney more room. Between the stimulation on his cock, and the hint of what he could be having on his finger he was getting more and more breathless.

Rodney pulled back slowly, letting John's finger slide from his mouth.

While it was still wet, John trailed the finger down Rodney's chest to his dick, swirling it through the pre-come starting to gather there. "Suck me."

Rodney's voice was low. "How do you want me?"

"Between my legs, over me. I'm going to lie back and let you do the work. You're going to pleasure me."

"Yes, sir," Rodney whispered, already moving, shoving back the covers so he could reach John's hard and leaking cock.

John shifted, settling on his back with his hands behind his head. "Draw out my pleasure. Your body belongs to me, you belong to me—show me you know how to please me."

Rodney's eyes darkened as he settled between John's legs, his attention focused entirely on his assignment. Lightly gripping John's cock, Rodney started by licking the tip and head, spreading the pre-come around, lapping it up.

Using his tongue, he began a thorough assault on the underside of John's cock, leaving a wet trail everywhere he passed. He blew gently against it, making John shiver.

Fighting to stay in control of his voice, John didn't attempt to disguise his enjoyment, or how aroused he was. "More."

And Rodney didn't disappoint. Swallowing the head, he tongued the slit at the top, sucking gently and applying an even pressure. His hand stroked him slowly, pushing John closer to the edge, but stopping, clamping down on the base before he got too close, drawing moans from John.

After several minutes of torture, Rodney took him deeper and began to use his tongue and teeth to drag John higher, arousing him more and more as his hands stroked the insides of John's thighs before drifting up along his stomach.

With John's cock deep in his throat, Rodney began sucking—lightly, gently—as his fingers trailed through John's chest hair to find his nipples. Rodney started to play with them, keeping the pressure light on John's cock.

John almost came up off the bed. God he missed having his nipples played with. He forced himself down and still, pushing his head back as far as he could get it, knowing he was making a lot of high-pitched and needy noises.

But Rodney didn't play hard, instead keeping his touches firm but light, making sure he could prolong the torture for as long as possible. John's body trembled under the teasing.

It was painful and it felt so good John never wanted it to end.

All of a sudden, Rodney increased the suction on John's cock, taking him in until the head hit the back of his throat. Humming and sucking around it, Rodney pinched John's nipples hard.

"Holy Fuck!" He hadn't been expecting it, and he came, hard, the world whiting out around him.

When John came to, Rodney had already pulled off, his head lying on John's thigh as he curled up at the very end of the bed. One hand gently stroked John's leg, fingers trailing through the hair.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Reaching down, John trailed the tips of his fingers through Rodney's hair. "You win the Nobel Prize for best pleasurer ever."

"No such thing," he whispered, his breath ghosting over John's skin.

"We'll invent it then. Name the award after you. Men everywhere will dream of winning a Rodney."

He huffed only to have it turn into a yawn a moment later. "Sorry."

John grinned. "S'ok. The whole idea was to relax you. Well, and to get a fucking fantastic orgasm."

"At your service."

Tugging him upward, John spread his legs so Rodney was lying on top of him, chest to chest. He wrapped his legs around his lover, locking his ankles behind Rodney's back. "I like the sound of that."

"True," Rodney said, shifting slightly before relaxing fully against John, arms sneaking under John's shoulders.

"So, before I give you a matching orgasm to start your day off right, and before I give you our new way of operating, why don't you tell me what, if anything, you would have a hard time dealing with."

John felt Rodney's breathing pause for a moment before he finally answered. "I'm…I’m not sure I understand."

John rubbed his lover's back, encouraging him to relax a bit more. "I wasn't kidding when I said I was going to be your top in more than just the bedroom. You're not happy—or not as happy as you could be—and I'm going to fix that. But before I tell you my ideas, I want to know if, when you think about it, there's anything that makes you cringe, or that you know would feel like you were being stifled."

"I…I've never thought about it."

Smiling, John continued to rub. "Take a few minutes now. We're not in any hurry, and I don't know about you, but I'm comfortable."

"Tired, too."

"I know. We'll get you caught up on your sleep, and fix what's causing it. You have appointments with Beckett and Kate in a little while. But for now, just relax with me and think about what I asked."

Rodney took a deep breath and tried to make himself relax. John continued rubbing his back, giving him the time he needed to think it over. This was something he really wanted and Rodney needed. John wanted to do it right.

It took several minutes before Rodney shifted again. "Most involve work stuff, I think."

Nodding, he wasn't surprised by that. "That's the one area I planned to stay mostly out of. Well, your research and the way you run the department anyway. Barring emergencies or major breakthroughs, however, I would like to set up working hours, and I will require you to stop at least a few minutes for lunch, and take a longer break for dinner every day."

Rodney took a breath and for a moment John thought he was going to argue. "I would be okay with that if you were willing to be flexible and listen to me—and the whole explanation—before blindly enforcing it because you can."

John pulled him down for a sweet kiss. "I don't think that will be a problem. I'm not doing this to make your life harder. Just the opposite. And I'll ask you to do the same. Just because you're first impulse at one of my orders might be to resist, all I ask is that you listen to why—and then tell me why you object, if you still do."

"And if we disagree?"

"Then it's my way. I'm still your top, and I still expect you to submit when I ask it of you. Even if you don't always like it."

"And if I don't?"

"Then there will be consequences—just like every other time you've decided to disobey. The situation will dictate the punishment, but I won't arbitrarily apply them. I'll always tell you what the consequences will be, and give you another opportunity to obey—or not—before I act."

Rodney paused a moment, obviously thinking. "Okay."

Unhooking his ankles, John rolled them, reversing their positions. "I'll take care of you. I promise. And right now," he ground down into Rodney's groin, feeling that his lover was still hard, "I think I should take care of that."

"There's more."

"More?"

"Um…items."

Chuckling, John kissed Rodney's pulse point, sucking lightly. "I love how focused you get. Keeps me on track. Yes, there are other items. For now, you're going to go to the sessions, and do anything Kate or Carson asks of you—but you already knew that. I also want you to talk to Ronon. I won't order you to forgive him, but I do want you to sit down, without the anger, and let him apologize. We're a team, a good one with the potential to be fucking great, so I want you to give him a chance."

"After what he did?"

"Keep an open mind. You don't have to do it today, or even tomorrow, but I want you to do it in the next week."

Rodney frowned, obviously wanting to argue about it. "Fine. I'll sit down with him."

John kissed him again, wanting to encourage him. "Thank you. And I think that's enough for now. I know there will be more later, but for now, that's enough."

"I have two more…at least that I thought of now. I don't want preferential treatment because I'm sleeping with you. Listening is a big thing. I need to know that you'll listen to me even if you don't like what I'm saying."

"Agreed—on both counts. And if I'm starting to slip on either one, all I ask is that you don't get angry. Instead, point it out, and I promise I won't get angry either. I'll try to fix it."

"Okay," Rodney said, relaxing against John again. "I might have more later."

"If you do, we can sit down and talk again. I'm sure there will be wrinkles we'll have to work out—just like when we first started together. But we'll figure it out." John rested his head against Rodney's, closing his eyes and smiling softly. "Love you."

"Love you." Rodney sighed again, his breath warm against the skin of John's chest.

John worked a hand between their bodies, stroking Rodney's dick lightly until it was at full hardness again. "I've had time to recover from that spectacular orgasm earlier. What do you say I fuck you now, start the day out on a high note?"

"I'd say a little lube and you might be able to slide right in."

John groaned, even the thought turning him on again. "Oh yeah..."

Rodney chuckled, low and dirty. "Where do you want me…sir?" The last word was drawn out, quiet.

He ground into Rodney, unable to stop himself. "On your hands and knees, ass in the air."

"Hmm…'kay," he said, crawling off John. He turned so his head was at the foot of the bed, but his ass was pointed directly at John.

"God, you're beautiful..." John kissed each cheek, feeling almost like he was paying homage to his lover.

Rodney ducked his head and John caught a quick glimpse of his flushed face.

Grabbing the lube from where he kept it close by, John slicked himself up and, being careful, pressed himself against Rodney's entrance. His lover was still a little loose from the night before, but still tight enough to leave John panting by the time he was all the way inside.

"So good…so full…so good, John…" Rodney whispered as John pushed in the last bit so his balls were flush against Rodney's ass cheeks.

"Don't come yet. Want to fuck you hard first."

Rodney's reply was breathless, whispered. "'kay."

Since he had come so spectacularly earlier, John set up an easy pace at first, adjusting until he knew he was hitting Rodney's prostate every time.

He waited until Rodney was moaning continually, trembling with desire and arousal before picking up the pace.

When he was pounding in, and could feel his own orgasm starting to pool at the base of his spine, he gave the order. "Come."

John could feel Rodney shuddering as he came, his entire body rolling with pleasure. The muscles in his ass clenched down on John as he continued to thrust into Rodney's quivering body, forcing out every last drop of come he could.

When his lover was trembling with the aftershocks, John took his own release, groaning as he did. When it started to become too much, he pulled out and collapsed to the side.

Rodney was still on his knees—arms locked straight. His head hung down and he was panting, still trying to catch his breath. John could see a trail of come on the back of Rodney's thighs, his eyes watching a single drop as it traveled down his leg toward Rodney's knee.

Grinning, John pushed himself up to lick it away. "I think we need a shower. You're dripping."

"Sleep. Sleeping would be better."

"Shower first. Then you can nap for a bit before you have to go to your appointments. Then you can eat lunch and head back to your room for another nap."

Rodney groaned. "Sleeping right now sounds so much better."

"Nope. Come on, lover. Let's get you cleaned up." John rolled off the bed, padding into the bathroom to start the shower.

Rodney finally stumbled in a minute later with his eyes half-closed—and walking a little crooked.

John caught him, leaning him against the wall. "Hey there. I know I'm good, but no need to fall to your knees before me."

Rodney glanced up, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smile. "Sore and tired now."

"I know." John planted a closed-mouth kiss on his lips. "So let's get you cleaned up so you can rest before your appointment with the doctors."

Wrapping his arms around John's waist, he nodded. "I guess."

Tugging Rodney into the shower, John went through his own ritual of cleaning his lover. It always left him feeling grounded and connected to Rodney more deeply than just sex could account for. It was more intimate than fucking, in some ways.

After John was certain Rodney was clean, he washed himself quickly, keeping an eye on his very relaxed lover as he leaned against the wall of the shower stall. He got them dried quickly and tucked Rodney back into bed.

"I have my own appointment in the infirmary for PT. I'll let Carson know you're napping, and to expect you in a bit. I'll come back by for you, and you have a clean uniform in the closet—did it with my last load of laundry."

Rodney forced an eye open. "You're not staying?"

After he had pulled on boxers and a clean pair of BDUs, John sat on the edge of the bed. "I wish I could. Unfortunately, I have to get to this appointment, and I have a ton of paperwork to take care of. I'll come back by to wake you up for your own appointments when mine are over."

"Oh." Rodney sighed, his eyes closing for a brief moment before opening again. "I should take my meds and eat a little something."

"That would be a good idea. If you're up for it, you can come with me to grab breakfast from the mess and head to the infirmary. Then you would have more time later for an uninterrupted nap."

Rodney shook his head. "Really need to sleep."

John kissed his forehead before standing again. "Take a nap then. My PT only lasts about an hour and half. Can you go that long without breakfast?"

"Actually…not this morning."

"Feeling a little woozy?"

"And disconnected, yes."

John pulled one of his emergency MREs out—he had restocked—opening it and setting it up for his lover. "See if that helps."

Rodney shifted up so he could eat. "Meds?"

"Eat that, and I'll find them for you." He pulled on the rest of his uniform and then went rooting through Rodney's clothes from the day before for the little bottle of pills. He shook two out and set them on the bed next to the food, then got a glass of water from the bathroom for him.

"Thanks," Rodney said, already part of the MRE eaten. He took the glass and swallowed the pills down, chasing it with more bites of food.

John waited until Rodney had finished, pleased his lover ate everything. He cleaned up and tucked the now even sleepier man back into the bed. "Have a nice post-sex nap. I'll be back in a bit."

""kay," Rodney replied, already half-asleep

Chuckling, John gave him one last kiss on his forehead, then headed out. He detoured to the mess for a piece of fruit before going directly to the infirmary. It was still fairly early, so not many people were up and about yet, allowing him to get there without having to stop for conversations. However, his doctor wasn't there yet, either. With a sigh, John hopped up on an exam bed to wait.

Doctor Hayes walked out from the back of the infirmary, obviously on the way to somewhere else when he spotted Sheppard. "Colonel? Why are you here?"

"PT. I had this brilliant plan of coming early, getting it done for the day, and being free to get other stuff done. I forgot to account for the fact that everyone else doesn't get up as early as I do."

"It is pretty early," Hayes said with a nod. "I don't think Doctor Hyland will be in for another hour or two. You might want to find something to do until then."

"That long?" John's face fell. "Maybe Heightmeyer is in her office... I could get that appointment done instead..."

"Actually, she's probably sleeping. It was a rough night for her with one of the botanists."

"Maybe you could tell me to go for a jog to the pier and back, and that could count as my PT...?"

Hayes shrugged and shook his head. "Not my call, sir. If I were you, I'd just come back in about two hours."

John sighed. "All right, thanks. But if I get involved in something and forget, you're my witness that I did come."

"I can say you were here, but you still have to come for your appointment. So, me witnessing you being here is not much good."

"True, but you can at least attest to the fact that I didn't blow it off. I'll make an effort to get here later, but..." He slipped off the bed. "If you see Hyland, could you tell him to page me? I'm just going to head to my office and get some paperwork done while I wait for the rest of the city to wake up."

"You should have slept in, Colonel. Don’t get a lot of chances to do that," he said, already walking away.

"Tell me about it." John sighed, heading for the office closest to the infirmary. At least that one had a decent view, and if he went back to his room, he would never leave for the day. Once there, he got involved in requisition forms and the back-log of reports, so he was surprised when his radio chirped. Hitting it absently, he didn't take his eyes off the screen he was reading. "Sheppard here."

"Hayes told me to call you, Colonel."

"Ah, Doctor Hyland. Yeah, I was down there early this morning hoping to get my PT taken care of, but I was a bit too early. I ran into Hayes and told him he was my witness that I wasn't blowing it off."

"You arriving at dawn when no one's here doesn't count. You still need to come for your appointment."

John grinned to himself. "Hayes said almost exactly the same thing. When do you have time? The earlier the better for me."

"I have an open spot around noon, which is still a few hours away. Best I can do if you want early."

"Damn." John ran his hand through his hair. "I'll have to try to swing by this evening then. I can't stop in the middle of the day. Just remind me if you haven't seen me yet and it's getting near the end of your shift."

"If I remember I will. I do have other things to do than remember your schedule, Colonel. Don’t miss your appointment. Hyland out."

Sighing, John saved his work and got up, heading back for his room. He needed to make sure Rodney at least made his appointments. He found his lover still curled up in the middle of the bed. Sitting on the edge, John carded his hands through Rodney's soft hair. "Hey there, Sleeping Beauty. Time to wake up."

Rodney didn't stir from where he'd wrapped himself around one of the pillows.

"Rodney. Come on, buddy, I need you to wake up and get you to the infirmary so Carson doesn't accuse me of being a bad influence again."

When he didn't stir again, John sighed, shaking his head. Of all the mornings to sleep like the dead…

John rolled his lover onto his back, climbing up to straddle him and trying to ignore the fact that Rodney was still naked. That way led to distraction. "Come on, Rodney. Wakey wakey."

This time at least, John got a muffled groan, but it didn't seem like he was anywhere closer to alertness.

He was about to try again when his radio chirped again. Rolling his eyes, he hit it on. "Sheppard here."

"Beckett here. Since I canna reach Rodney on his radio, I thought I'd try you."

"Yeah, he's sleeping like the dead. I'm actually sitting on him now trying to rouse him enough to get up and come down to the infirmary."

"What do you mean, sleeping like the dead?"

"He was awake this morning, and he had an MRE and took the medication you gave him. Then he said he was tired, so I let him nap. Now I can't get him to wake up."

"The medication shouldn't…are you sure that's all he ate? He was okay before?"

"He seemed to be. He was tired even before he took the medication. We were up, and, ah, got in a little exercise, but afterwards he was sleepy. As soon as he ate, he was falling asleep again."

"Keep trying to rouse him. I'll be there in a few minutes. You're in his quarters?"

"He's in mine. I'll be here. Sheppard out." John tugged the covers up to cover Rodney's lower body, then continued to try and wake his lover, still getting nothing more than sleepy responses.

Rodney was moving a bit more, but it seemed more restless than awake. After about five minutes, the door chimed alerting John of Carson's arrival.

John sent the mental command to open the door, keeping his attention focused on Rodney. "Come on, buddy. I need you to open those pretty blue eyes for me..."

Carson knelt beside the bed, his medical kit set beside him. "How's he doing?"

"Still out. It's not like before, like he's in a coma or checked out. More like he's in a deep sleep and can't come out of it."

"I don'na think he's tolerating the medication well, but I dinna think he would react this quickly."

John had moved off Rodney to give Carson room. He sat on the edge of the bed, almost absently petting Rodney's hair. "He'll be okay though, right?"

"Aye. Should be," Carson said. "Drowsiness is one of the side-effects, as is the inability to fall asleep and stay asleep. Apparently, we're discovered which way this one works on him." He was digging through his kit, looking for something.

"While he does need the rest, this is a little too deep for my comfort. Is there anything else he can take that might not have this effect?"

"All the meds we have on hand to treat depression and PTSD have side-effects. The one I have him on is usually the best tolerated. Looks like we're going to have to try something else."

John refocused on his lover. "Then I guess we'll just have to fix him as fast as possible, so he won't need the meds at all."

"Aye and if I had a magic wand I'd use it on the lot of you." Carson shifted again, leaning down, lightly tapping Rodney's cheek. "Come on, lad. We need to get you to wake up for a bit."

Carson didn't seem to be having much more luck than John had in waking the sleeping man. Getting a little desperate, John leaned down and brushed his lips across Rodney's—it had worked for Sleeping Beauty...

Rodney shifted, moaning quietly. He wasn't awake, but he was aware to a certain degree.

He ran his tongue along the seam of Rodney's mouth. "Open up for me, let me in," he whispered softly.

"John, what are you…" Carson's whispered question trailed off as Rodney moaned again and he opened his mouth a little.

John kept the kiss slow, sensual, not letting it get too deep or too heavy. When he pulled back, he caught a thin line of blue staring up at him. "Hey, there."

"Mmmm."

"I know you're sleepy, but some of that is the drugs—this is one of the side-effects. I need you to try and shake it off." John cupped Rodney's face, caressing it with his thumb.

Rodney's eyes closed again and he leaned into John's touch.

Ignoring the astonished Doctor, John kept his attention on Rodney. "Hey, there. No going back to sleep. Open your eyes."

"Tired." The word was quiet and whined, but Rodney was awake—sort of.

"I know. But the sooner you get up and start moving, the faster that will wear out of your system."

"No."

"Wasn't a request. Come on, Rodney, time to sit up and wake up."

Rodney went to move, turning away from John, but Sheppard caught his shoulder, holding him in place.

"Up." He tugged and, after some resistance, his lover managed to sit up, swaying a little. John glanced over at Carson. "All right, now what. I got him to wake up, how do we get him moving?"

Carson was still quiet, watching their interaction closely. He shook himself before turning to his kit. "Unfortunately I'm going to have to give him something to counteract the meds to get him moving, but I'd rather not. If you can keep him awake, I'll go and get a wheelchair so we can get him—"

"No. No infirmary."

They both looked over at Rodney. "Why not?"

Rodney eyes were finally open—if a little glazed—slowly moving between John and Carson. "Too many people."

John nodded slowly. "True. Carson, is there any way we can avoid that until he's a little more alert and himself?"

Beckett sighed, his eyes sliding to his medical kit again. "If I'm going to give him something to counteract the meds, I need him under observation."

"All right." John turned back to Rodney. "Tell you what. If you can get up and get yourself dressed without too much help, then you probably don't need chemicals help to counteract anything. But if you can't, you're going to go to the infirmary with Carson where you can get treatment."

"Just let me sleep it off."

"Not an option."

Rodney closed his eyes and John could see that his lover was barely hanging onto his emotions. "I'm so tired."

John moved further on to the bed so he could wrap his arms around Rodney, pulling him close. "I know. But you shouldn't be. This is the drugs talking, and we need to get them out of your system."

"Colonel," Carson said quietly, already packing up. "I need to check him over in the infirmary, just don't take too long to bring him."

John shot the other man a grateful look. "I'll do my best to get him there as fast as I can. I'll have my radio on if you need me."

Carson nodded, rising to his feet. He left silently, the door closing behind him.

John gathered Rodney closer, kissing along his jaw.

Rodney wrapped his arms around John, relaxing against him.

"We need to get you up and moving around a little."

"Want to sleep."

"I know, but you can't right now."

"Just a little longer."

"Come on." John stood, pulling Rodney up with him and supporting him. "Once you start moving, it will get easier."

Rodney groaned, clutching onto John tighter as they stood still for a few moments, waiting while McKay got his feet under him. When John felt Rodney shift a little, lips pressing to the skin of his neck, he knew they could probably move again.

John walked them over to the wall, propping Rodney against it while he dug out clean clothes. The next few minutes were spent carefully dressing his groggy lover, although by the time everything was in place, Rodney seemed more alert, and was actually helping a little.

Rodney watched John move across the room to grab his boots, head tilted to the side, eyebrows drawn together a little. "I screwed up again, didn't I?"

Pausing, John gave him a soft smile. "Nope. This time it was no one's fault. Beckett gave you the PTSD drug most commonly used—same one I'm on actually—and most people don't ever have a problem with the possible side effects. You did, so once it works its way out of your system, we'll try something else."

"Oh." He quieted again. "You fucked me this morning, right?"

John sighed to himself. The drugs were affecting Rodney's memory, too—at least he hoped it was just the drugs. "Yeah. You gave me an amazing blow job, then we talked, then we had mind-blowing sex."

"Good good," he said, more to himself than anything, his hand waving half-heartedly. "That wasn't a dream then. Good."

"What else do you remember?" John went to his knees to put Rodney's shoes on.

"I have a curfew."

Grinning, John pushed his face into Rodney's groin, kissing him there. "But I'll make it worth your while to comply."

"Mmm…know you will." Rodney paused for a minute. "Um…more smoke breaks even though I don't smoke…eat better…twice-daily fucking…have to talk to Ronon even if I don't have to like him…no lying to you at all, not even the small white ones that are supposed to make you feel better…and you almost shoved your entire hand in my ass."

John was laughing silently by the end, and he pressed several more kisses into Rodney's thighs and stomach. "That pretty much sums it up." He looked up, catching Rodney's eyes. "I love you."

Rodney smiled back—openly, gently. "Love you. Did I get everything? It's all a little…jumbled."

"That was pretty much it. I'm going to stay out of running your department, if there's an emergency or a major breakthrough, I'm willing to be flexible, and we both agreed to sit down and talk—and more importantly listen—if something isn't working. But at the end of the day, the final decisions are still mine, whether you like them or not."

Rodney nodded again. "So the required twice daily fucking was actually on the list? I wasn't sure."

"Well, it wasn't before, but it is now. I'm not in love with a genius for nothing."

"Oh," Rodney said, his cheeks turning red.

Laughing again, John rose to his feet, leaning in to kiss Rodney soundly. "And I like the way you think. Although twice seems kind like a low amount. We'll make that the minimum and shoot for more than that."

"Yes, sir," Rodney whispered against John's lips, his hands resting on John's ass.

Stepping closer, John worked a leg between Rodney's knees. "As much as I want to ravish you again now, Carson is waiting. I'll walk with you to the infirmary to make sure you get there okay. And I'll take a rain-check on the ravishing to be cashed in this evening."

Rodney sighed, leaning his head against John's shoulder. "Am I supposed to be this horny?"

"You're a guy, so yes. I'm almost always at least a little hard when you're around. More so when I can touch you. Or you're berating someone. Or waving your hands around. Hell, pretty much always."

"I never feel this desperate or completely exhausted."

"The exhaustion, at least, is the drugs and the condition they're treating. As for desperate—you've had a very rough month, and now you're falling into the sub role more full-time. I wouldn't be surprised if you find your body reacting differently for the short term as you adjust. Don't worry too much about it."

"I'm not worrying yet. Sure there's no time for a quickie?" Rodney looked up, his eyes hopeful.

Grinning, John dropped to his knees again, unbuttoning Rodney's pants and pulling him out. "Who could turn down a request like that?"

"Oh…John!" Rodney groaned as John took him in his mouth, his hands clutching at the wall as he tried not to thrust forward.

John hummed happily around his lover. He drew it out, teasing just the head, alternating with taking him so deep John could feel Rodney bumping the back of his throat.

When Rodney was trembling and sobbing, John decided to take pity on him.

He swallowed around the head, fondling his lover's balls. He didn't want to pull off, so he made what he hoped was a commanding sort of noise, hoping Rodney understood that meant 'come now'.

Only a few seconds later, John felt Rodney stiffen for a brief moment before he was coming, pouring down John's throat. He trembled and collapsed against the wall, his locked knees and John's grip on him keeping him upright.

John milked him through the aftershocks, and then pulled off to lick him clean. "Mmmm. Beckett won't need you in scrubs today. I think you need jewelry on this pretty dick."

"Mmmm…what?" Rodney's eyes were half-open and his entire body was relaxed and sated.

John made sure Rodney could stand on his own and then went to retrieve one of the locking metal cock rings. He slipped it on and took satisfaction in how it looked against Rodney's skin before tucking him away.

"John?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

"Claiming you."

"But I'm yours."

"Exactly." John grinned, kissing the tip of Rodney's nose. He was, admittedly, in an odd mood.

Rodney looked at him for a long moment. "Anything else?"

Chuckling, John caressed his lover's face. "I was debating whether or not I wanted to put my collar on you, the one that looks like a necklace. On the one hand, no one with the possible exception of Kate will know what it really is, but on the other, I don't want to put you in a position that makes you uncomfortable."

"And a cock ring won't make me uncomfortable?" Rodney smirked at him and for a moment he was Rodney again.

"That's the good kind of uncomfortable. The 'oh god when will John get around to fucking me' kind of uncomfortable." He smirked right back.

"So what's a little more metal?"

Smirking, John went to the toy drawer and pulled out his lover's favorite anal plug—the jeweled one—as well as the collar. "Metal does look good on you, in so many ways."

When John moved to walk back, Rodney had turned around, his arms resting on the wall, his ass angled out, pants still trapped around his knees.

"Mmmm, so fucking gorgeous..." John caressed each pert cheek, being careful around the one that was still bruised. Using a little lube, he slipped the plug into place, taking advantage of the fact that Rodney was still loose from their morning activities.

Rodney moaned as it slid into place before letting out a contented sigh. "Wish it was you."

"Later, tonight. This will keep you ready for me, so when we get home, I can just slide right in."

Pushing off the wall, Rodney leaned back into John. "Mmm."

John wrapped his arms around Rodney, settling his hands on his lover's hips. He pushed his nose into Rodney's neck.

They stood like that for a few minutes before John knew they had to get moving before Carson came looking for them.

He grabbed the collar and slipped it around Rodney's neck, kissing the place where the lock would go, if he could put on one in public on Atlantis. Then he pulled Rodney's pants up and buttoned them back into place. "All right, ready to go face the world again?"

"Not really, no."

John settled his hands back on Rodney's hips, pulling him so his head was resting on John's shoulder again, leaning his own against it. "I'll be thinking of you all day. Does that help?"

"If we were naked and in bed, yes."

"Later." John kissed him again, then gently separated them. "Come on, I'll walk down there with you. Maybe I can convince Hyland to do my PT so I can stop worrying about it. I need to catch Kate at some point today, too."

"I’m thinking Kate is stop number two for me," Rodney said with a sigh, letting John's hand guide him to the door. He was mostly steady on his feet, but he still looked exhausted. They wandered into the hall, walking slowly to the infirmary. John could see the necklace sitting just at Rodney's collar, the shirt mostly covering it except when he moved a certain way.

It gave him a thrill to know Rodney was wearing visible evidence of his claim—even if no one else knew it. It just intensified his possessiveness, and reinforced his decision to expand their dynamic to other parts of their lives. "I actually might head there first then. That way she'll be free for you."

"I'm on everyone else's schedule but my own," he said with an absent shrug. "I just want to be done so I can go back to bed."

"It's only temporary. You'll be back to your usual antsy need to be in the labs in no time." John grinned at him, looking up as they arrived to see Carson headed their way. "As promised, Doc. Got him moving, and under his own power."

"Aye, I see that," Carson said, his eyes roaming over Rodney's body, pausing when they saw the edge of the necklace. He raised an eyebrow but didn't comment about it, instead gesturing Rodney toward the back of the infirmary and some of the private rooms. "I'll take it from here, Colonel."

"All right. Rodney, I'll find you later. Behave." He grinned, more for the benefit of anyone watching, hoping Rodney knew he did mean it.

He nodded, letting Carson tug him forward. But John could feel Rodney's eyes on him until the infirmary doors closed behind him.

Taking a deep breath, he turned and headed for Kate's office, hoping to catch her and get at least one appointment taken care of for the day.

It took her a few minutes to come to the door, giving John a tired smile. "I didn't expect to see you so early. Is everything alright?"

"Yup. I'm just making an attempt to get my required appointments done early today—and I seem to be striking out. You look like hell, if you don't mind my saying so. Hayes mentioned you had a bad night."

She nodded, gesturing him in. A mug of coffee was sitting on her desk next to her open laptop. "If you want to get your appointments changed, all you have to do is call ahead. You do know that, right?"

He smiled ruefully. "Yeah, I got a bit sidetracked. Anyway, Rodney will probably be headed your way in a bit. If you want to do this later, we can. Or if you need to postpone until tomorrow, we can do that too."

"How about you make yourself some coffee," she said gesturing to the half-full pot, "and make yourself at home? I need to finish one report and we can sit and chat."

He nodded. Hopefully he could make this a short and sweet session for her. After he had his coffee, he moved to the large window, admiring the clean lines and soaring spires of his city.

He heard Kate push her chair back a few minutes later, her mug scraping against the desk as he grabbed it. "Okay. One report done and I can use a break. Coffee okay?"

"Perfect. And really, I don't want to be a pest. If this isn't a good time..."

"No no. This is perfect. So, anything you wanted to talk about today?" Kate settled into her normal chair, her hands clasped around her mug.

He settled into the chair across from her. "Believe it or not, no. I'm feeling a lot better, and I haven't even had any flashbacks recently. I've been so caught up in helping Rodney, I guess my own issues just sort of worked themselves out."

"I doubt they worked themselves out, but being able to focus on something else certainly helps."

He quirked his lips up. "True. Although I guess I can update you on some of the things we've talked about in the past. Lorne is a god-send." John went over the plans for the training demonstration, and the reasons behind it.

She nodded throughout his explanation. "That sounds like it might work—at least initially. You're still going to have to deal with certain men, I imagine."

"I know. But this is a first step, and will hopefully take care of most of the problem. That will leave me with just the trouble-makers, instead of dealing with an entire base of issues."

"True. So have you discussed your plan with Rodney yet?"

"I did. He's...not entirely sure about it, but I'm hoping by the time we have it set up, he'll be feeling better. I think most of his response was colored with how he's feeling right now."

"That's probably true."

"We…chatted this morning. I'm taking your advice to a certain degree, and extending our relationship to other aspects of his life. He was surprisingly okay with it, although we agreed to sit down and talk—and keep anger out of it—if one of us doesn't like the way something is going. But he was okay with me reserving the right to make the final decisions."

"Why did you decide to do that so quickly after talking with me about it?"

"Partially because he needs it. He can't cope right now—and I think this will help him. He's not happy this way, Kate, and I can't stand to sit back and not try to fix that."

"How do you think he'll view this change in your relationship once he's back to normal?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it I suppose. I'm hoping he'll realize he's more comfortable like this, happier."

"Do you think he might resent the change? Especially because it was done when he was sick."

John let his gaze drift to the window, gazing out unseeing. "If he does, we'll deal with it then. I hope he doesn't. It isn't really anything new—just an extension of what we already had."

"But more. A lot more."

He looked back at her. "You're telling me you would let your sub be unhappy, hurting, if you knew you could help?"

She tilted her head to the side a little before answering. "No. But this isn't about me."

He let his lips tilt up. "It isn't really about me, either. It's about Rodney. I don't regret this path, but if I need to alter it down the road, I will."

"But the two of you are connected in a very personal and intimate way."

"Are you trying to change my mind?"

"No. I’m just trying to get you to think about what you're doing. I want you to be happy with the decisions you're making. They have to come from you, not me."

"Honestly, the desire has always been there—and that is how we lived while on leave. There were no lines at all between us. But my career... I'm not so much changing the rules as going back to the ones that made us both happy, and outside consequences be damned."

The door chime interrupted whatever Kate was going to say and she glanced at John. "I'm not expecting anyone, but if you'd rather I didn't answer…"

He waved his hand. "Go ahead. It might be important."

Kate nodded her thanks and rose gracefully to her feet, palming the panel to open the door. "Rodney, it's good to see you. I wasn't expecting you."

"I…Carson sent me down. This a good time?"

John leaned so Rodney could see him. "I can leave, Kate."

"Oh. I'm interrupting. I'll come back," Rodney said immediately.

Kate reached out to touch Rodney's arm before he could turn away. "Why don't you come in? If you like we can talk a little bit, just the three of us."

"Come sit down, Rodney. Kate and I were just chatting—my daily appointment. But I was mostly worrying over you."

Rodney's eyes shifted between John and Kate for a brief moment before he stepped inside, moving to sit on the oversized chair with John. "I thought I was the worrier."

John held out his hand as Rodney got close, pulling him in so he was practically sitting on John's lap. "You're just more honest about it, that's all."

Rodney shifted and John moved so McKay could slide down to sit between John's legs, leaning back again his chest. He glanced up toward Kate who was watching them carefully. Her face didn't show any emotion—that neutral doctor's mask in place—but if John could read her eyes correctly, it was approval he saw.

Or maybe he was just because he wanted—needed to—see it.

Smiling, John wrapped his arms around his lover, feeling him relax immediately and knowing it was the right thing for him to have done—even in front of Kate. "How did the appointment with Carson go?"

"Okay, I think. He didn’t keep me."

"I see that. Still feeing overwhelmingly tired?"

"I’m okay right now, but a nap would be nice."

John smiled, moving a hand to cup Rodney's face, turning it for a quick kiss. "You have to talk to Kate first."

Rodney hummed, stealing a second kiss before pulling away. "That's why I was here."

John looked around his lover at Heightmeyer. "So, Doc, you have us here. What would you like to know? I'll stay for a bit for a joint session, then I'll leave Rodney here to chat with you alone."

She moved back to her chair, her eyes pausing slightly as she caught sight of Rodney's collar. "How about you talk a little bit about your relationship?"

John nodded, knowing in a way this was a continuation of the conversation earlier. "You've already heard my perspective. Rodney, why don't you tell her about it from yours."

He shifted, glancing back at John. "What about it?"

"How you feel about it, how we work, anything at all. Kate understands a lot more about this type of dynamic than I ever would have guessed, so don't worry." He squeezed Rodney a little, giving him an encouraging smile.

Rodney turned back to Kate and John could feel his body tensing. "You…you know about…us…and…you know about our…dynamic?"

John nuzzled his lover's ear. "She's a top, although she hasn't come out and admitted it directly."

"John…" Kate said, her mouth twitching in a half-smile.

"Well, you are. You're too damn pushy to be a sub, and you know a little too much about BDSM to not be one or the other." He grinned at her, snaking a hand under Rodney's shirt, although for now he just let his hand rest against skin.

She turned her attention to Rodney, pointedly ignoring John's comment. "I know John mentioned that he's changed a few things recently about your relationship and I see you're wearing his collar. How does it make you feel?"

"Tell the truth," John whispered it in Rodney's ear when he hesitated. "I won't get angry or offended. Or, if you really want, I can leave so you can speak freely."

"I am allowed to think, right?"

Smiling, John leaned back. "Yup. Just making sure it wasn't some misguided attempt to spare my feelings."

"I'm…surprised John told you so much about our relationship…especially given his current position in the military and in the city," Rodney began quietly, his eyes fixed somewhere to the left of Kate's knee. "We'd talked about the collar when we were on Earth…about me wearing it here. I like it, like to wear it because it's John's—and I'm John's. But, I worry about what would happen if our relationship became general knowledge—especially given the current…attitude on base."

John nodded, although he held his tongue. He had told Kate almost the same thing—and that hadn't changed. He knew he couldn't keep it on Rodney all the time, but his lover needed the comfort it brought right now.

Rodney had paused for a moment, obviously pulling together some of his thoughts. "I like what it symbolizes. In a way it's a physical representation of the promise, the vow between us—even more so than the rings." Rodney's fingers reached up, brushing lightly against the metal collar at his throat. "We're not officially married, but the rings hold their own sort of promise—faithfulness, love…the 'til death do us part thing. The collar, though…it's different. To give your…power to someone else…it's so freeing. And what I get back in return is more than I thought possible."

John felt his eyes widen, and he loved Rodney so damn much right now it hurt. "Love you..." It came out as a hoarse whisper. It was all he was capable of right now. "Love you so damn much..."

Kate's eyes drifted up to him, shushing him without a sound.

Closing his mouth, John swallowed hard, nodding shortly. Because he didn't want to think about his expression, he buried his face in the crook of Rodney's neck, just breathing, waiting for him to continue.

"Honestly, I'm a little worried about how the changes will work…if they'll work, but I'm willing to give it a try. So far I haven't disliked anything John's suggested—apart from the running thing. I do enough of that when there are angry natives chasing me."

John shook a little with silent laughter. He hadn't given up on convincing Rodney to jog with him, but he hadn't found the right incentive yet either.

"I honestly never thought anything like this would happen to me. Anything this good always had bad consequences. The fact that we're still together says a lot for me. It hasn't been easy and I don't think it will ever be easy. Our jobs and our lives don't allow it."

John pressed a kiss into the skin real estate he was busy sniffing. He also squeezed once to let Rodney know he agreed.

Kate nodded, leaning forward. "So why do it? Why this kind of a relationship?"

Rodney was silent for a long moment. "It makes me happy."

"That's it?"

"And I love John, but that's a given."

"Mmmmm." John purred a little.

"And I think…I hope it makes him happy…that I can make him happy, too."

"Mmm hmmm. Very happy. More than happy." John whispered it, not looking up although he could imagine Kate was giving him the 'be quiet and let Rodney talk' look again.

"Is that why you were so upset before?"

"Before?"

"After the mission. About Milos."

"He hurt John."

"I know, but he's healing."

"He was going to do something to me."

"What do you mean? John?"

"No. Milos. He was taking me somewhere else. I was worth something to him."

"Information." John lifted his head. "He wanted information, and he figured out that if you were important to Lorne and I—and you had managed to elude his men for so long, then blow up two-thirds of his jamming equipment—that you were smart, capable. He would have grilled you for information, probably tried to coerce you."

Rodney shook his head. "It felt like Brendal all over again."

John stiffened, unconsciously tightening his hold. "I'm fairly sure he was planning to rape me eventually. His comments were leaning in that direction. But once he got you... Fuck."

"So what happened?" Kate's voice was quiet, but firm, re-directing Rodney once again.

"They found us."

"Who did?"

"Teyla and the barbarian."

"He has a name."

Rodney sighed. "Ronon."

"And?"

"And they brought us home."

"But something else happened."

Rodney nodded once.

"Why did you do it?" The question was quiet, non-threatening, curious.

"He hurt John and Lorne and me."

"Yes, he did. So why did you skip over what you did?"

"I should have found another way."

"Another way to do what?"

"To stop him."

"Why?"

"I’m a scientist."

"And?"

"And while I know a lot of our innovations and discoveries can be changed and altered and used as weapons, we're supposed to be better than that."

"Better than what?"

"A murderer."

"You think of yourself that way?"

"I do now."

"Why?"

"I killed someone and I wanted him dead."

"But you didn't pull the trigger."

"Doesn't matter. Same results."

John had closed his eyes aching for his lover. "Is that how you think of me? I've killed in combat situations before, Rodney. I've been the one to pull the trigger in situations like you were in. When it comes to them or us, kill or be killed, you don't have a choice."

Rodney shook his head. "It's your job. I’m supposed to find other ways to solve things."

"Most of the time, yes. I try to shield you from things like that, so you never had to face that kind of decision. But... for good or ill, the science team members on off-world teams are part soldier now. Maybe it was a mistake to ask that of you, but I don't regret it, and I'm not sure I would change it if I had the chance. I don't like that it's made you question yourself, but... I can name plenty of times when we would have died if you weren't there."

Rodney shrugged. "You can't be everywhere."

"I know. Which is why I'm…not glad, but..." He was frustrated, not knowing how to phrase what he felt. "Take this how I mean it, okay? I'm glad you had the strength to take care of yourself, to take care of me when I was down. I don't want you to become something you're not comfortable with, but... I would rather you be the one still standing at the end of the day."

"I killed him in cold blood instead of self-defense. I guess that's my real issue."

"No. He was attempting to take you to a secure location to hurt you, after he had hurt your team. If anything, you gave him a quick death and spared him the hours of agony I would have been tempted to inflict had I been in your position."

"He was on the ground, stunned. We could have left without doing anything else."

"Can you see into the future? Can you be absolutely certain he was out? We've seen people resist being stunned before, and while a long shot, it doesn't mean it couldn't have happened. Can you be absolutely certain that, if you had turned your back, he wouldn't have sat up and killed you?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Ronon wouldn't have let us move away if he was in any position to do anything to us."

"Which is why he didn't hesitate when you asked him to shoot to kill."

"He's military. He followed my order. That's it."

"No, it isn't. He's too independent to blindly follow an order. I hope to one day earn his trust enough that he'll accept my leadership without hesitation, but right now, he shot Milos because the man was a threat and a danger. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't believe that."

"Gentlemen," Kate said, interrupting the two of them. "At this point in time, we may have to agree to disagree. In things like this there is very rarely a correct answer."

Sighing, John nodded. "I know you're right I just... God, Rodney, I hate that you feel this way, when you don't have any reason to."

"And I actually think that's enough for the two of you today," Kate said carefully.

John huffed, turning Rodney's face for a sweet kiss, diving in and trying to soothe away his lover's pain for a moment. When he pulled back, Rodney had melted into him. "I guess that means you want me to leave, huh?"

"Actually, given the exhaustion in Rodney's face, I think that's enough for him right now, too."

"Okay." John nibbled for a moment, loving the fact that he could indulge his public sex kink just a little this way. "You all right to make it back to your room for a nap?"

"Probably," Rodney said after a minute.

"All right. You head back. Call me on the radio if you need me, or I'll be in my office most of the day."

"Yeah…" Rodney said, his hand moving up to his ear. "Might help if I had mine."

"They took your radio?" John looked over at Kate. "Can he get it back?"

Kate looked puzzled, her fingers tapping soundlessly against her mug. "I didn't take it and I'm almost certain Carson didn't. Rodney, when did you have it last?"

He shrugged after a minute. "Day or so ago. I talked to Radek on it."

"Do you have a spare, Kate? One he can use until we find his?"

"Rodney, when did you talk to Radek? Do you remember?"

"We were working on a project…something about the ZPMs." He shrugged again, glancing over his shoulder to John. "Why does it matter?"

He gave a small shrug—John didn't know where she was going with this one either.

"Doctor Weir mentioned that she couldn't get hold of Rodney several days ago—she had a question to ask him that wasn't hugely important. She actually mentioned it in passing so I didn't think much about it." Kate leaned forward.

"So he lost it a few days ago...what are you getting at, Kate?" John rested his head on Rodney's shoulder.

"Almost a week ago."

"So?"

Kate didn't quite sigh, but her lips thinned for a moment. "If he misplaced something as simple as his radio—for what, five days or so—and he was working, what else might have gotten misplaced…"

"If it was something important, someone would have discovered it by now. He's been tired—and we're fixing the problem."

"It might pay to have Doctor Zelenka walk through whatever he was working on the past few days," Kate said sitting back in her seat. She still didn't look happy. "John, if you can walk Rodney back to his room, I'll make sure he gets a radio."

John shook his head. "What's really wrong here? What's bothering you?"

"I'm not sure," she said quietly.

He sighed. "All right. Keep me posted."

She nodded again, watching carefully as Rodney got to his feet, John's hand steadying hand keeping him upright. "I'm done for today?" he asked.

"I think Carson wants a check this evening before you go to bed, but you're done with me for today, yes."

"And me?" John raised an eyebrow.

Kate smiled. "Tomorrow morning good for you?"

"Early." He smiled. "Maybe I can convince Hyland to just let me go for a jog as my PT before that."

"If you can get him to give you an early appointment, I'll take you. I have the morning open."

"Thanks." John shot a smile at her, then turned back to Rodney. "All right, let's get you to your room for a nap. I'll get you settled, then head to work."

Rodney was looking at Kate, his expression thoughtful. "I don't ever lose my radio."

"Do you remember what happened to it then?" She tilted her head.

Rodney was holding himself still, hands clenched at his sides. "I yelled at Radek."

"And that made you lose your radio?"

"No." Rodney shook his head. It was painful in a way to see him so slow. "I was in my lab. He was in the main lab. It was over the radio." He paused again. "Maybe I took it off? The next thing I remember is working in the chair room."

John slipped his arms around Rodney's waist again. "It doesn't matter."

"It does."

"Why?" John turned his lover so he could look him in the face. He wasn't denying it, but he was curious as to what Rodney was thinking.

"I should know this."

"You've had a hard few weeks. And PTSD isn't something that goes away by itself—if anything, it gets worse the longer you put it off."

"I should know this," Rodney repeated firmly.

Kate stood, putting her hand on Rodney's shoulder. "We'll figure it out. Don't worry about it now."

"Exactly. We'll figure it out. Fix it. What drug is Carson trying on you now?"

"He didn't say. Won't be until tomorrow."

"Ah. Sounds like a plan. Still tired?" John nodded to Kate, and then started to steer Rodney out.

Rodney glanced over his shoulder at Kate, his expression puzzled, but didn't argue with John as they made their way into the hallway. "Exhausted. Confused."

"I know. I wish I could just wave my hand and make this better. But we'll fix it. Trust Kate and Carson. They know what they're doing."

"I know." Rodney sighed, running a hand over his face. "It's just frustrating. I have gaps in my memory that never used to be there."

"Believe me, I understand."

"The gaps worry me. What if Kate is right? What if I was working on something and I did it wrong?"

"If that was the case, Zelenka would have discovered it by now. And if it's still bothering you, you can go back over everything yourself once we get this under control."

Rodney sighed again as they turned down the last hallway toward John's quarters.

"Hey, wasn't I using your radio? I seem to remember answering someone for you while you were sleeping. Zelenka maybe. We can check your desk, and mine, see if its there."

"Doesn't matter." Rodney's voice was dark, low.

"Yes, it does. If it bothers you, it matters." John gave the mental command to open his door. He wondered how long it would be until someone noticed Rodney was basically living with him at the moment.

"I’m sorry I brought it up."

Once the door closed behind them, John gathered his lover into his arms again. "Don't be. Lie back down and try to get some rest. You can meet me in the mess later for lunch."

Rodney huffed, relaxing into John, his fingers trailing up and down John's spine.

He arched a little, finding Rodney's mouth with his own. They kissed for several long minutes before John reluctantly pulled back. "I need to go. The sheer volume of paperwork waiting for me is daunting."

"I know. Go."

Darting in for another quick kiss, John forced himself to disengage. "Meet me for lunch in the mess later?"

"I'll try," Rodney said, his hands still resting on John's hips, fingers tracing the edge of his BDU pants.

John's breath hitched. He really wished he didn't have to be responsible. "If you can find your radio, call me. Otherwise, I'll come look for you if you aren't in the mess."

"Kate…" he started, lifting his hand to wiggle his fingers. "Kate said she'd bring one." He glanced around the room as if noticing where he was. "Hope she knows where to find me."

"I don't think she'll have a problem. All right, I'll call you when I start to get hungry to make sure you're awake." With a sigh, John stepped away from his lover's arms completely.

Rodney nodded once, watching John as he moved toward the door. He looked a little lost as he stood in the middle of John's room. Just before John was going to suggest he go get in the bed, Rodney finally turned and stepped a few paces to the bed, sitting down on the edge.

"Rodney?" John hesitated. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Fine fine. I'm…I’m going to take a nap I think." The words were right, but the tone was off. God, he just needed to get Rodney fixed.

Taking a few steps back to the bed, John leaned down to catch Rodney in a fierce, possessive kiss. "I'll be back in a bit. I wish I could stay with you, but..."

Rodney sighed, his eye wide as he looked up at John. "Staying would be nice."

God... John was helpless against that look, those eyes... He felt himself caving, wanting to climb into bed with Rodney and hold him until he felt better. Right on the verge of stripping and saying to hell with paperwork, his radio went off. With another sigh, he opened the channel. "Sheppard here."

"Elizabeth here, John. I'm still waiting for your paperwork on Jameson."

He blinked, trying to kick-start his brain again. "Ah, yeah. Sorry about that. I was actually in the infirmary and with Kate all morning so far. I still have a PT appointment to fit in somewhere since Hyland wasn't available. It's mostly done, I just need to add a few things before it's ready for you." He was glad he had gotten in some time this morning.

"Good. I'll need it as soon as possible since he's filing an official complaint about Ronon."

"Fuck." John ran a hand through his hair, looking back down at Rodney. "All right. I'm headed back to my office now. I'll have it in your inbox in the next half-hour."

"Not staying," Rodney said with a frown.

"What was that, John? I seemed to have missed something you said."

Reaching down to caress Rodney's face, John melted a little when his lover leaned into the touch. God, he wished he could say screw responsibilities. "Nothing. Sorry."

"Okay. I'll look for your report within the hour. Thanks. Weir out."

He turned off the radio before kissing McKay again. "I'm sorry, buddy. I have to take care of this. Jameson is filing an official complaint against Ronon, so Elizabeth needs my report."

"Always work to be done," he said quietly, offering John a tired smile.

"Yeah. Get some sleep, and we'll have lunch together. And dinner tonight. And then we'll have lazy comfort sex before we go to sleep tonight."

"Mmmm…'kay." The door chime interrupted anything else Rodney may have said.

Fighting the urge to scream—was everyone out to get a piece of him today?—John went to the door, making sure he was blocking the view of the room with his body before he opened it.

The door slid open to reveal Kate, standing there with a radio in her hand. "Oh, John. I didn't think you'd still be here. I'm not interrupting anything…"

With a frustrated chuckle, he stood aside, letting her enter and the door close before answering. "No, I was just on my way out, much to my irritation. The temptation to say screw being the military commander and climb into bed to take a nap with Rodney is almost overwhelming."

Her gaze slid over to the bed for a brief moment before coming back to him, offering him a smile. "I can understand. I just wanted to bring this extra radio by for Rodney."

"Thanks. I feel better knowing he has a way to find me quickly if he needs me." John found himself leaning slightly towards the bed, and had to consciously force himself straight again. "And if I don't leave now, I won't, and Elizabeth needs that report."

"I can sit with him for a while if that will make you feel more comfortable."

He debated for a moment, then glanced over at Rodney, who was watching them. "It would make me feel better, but... Rodney, is that okay with you? Just until you fall asleep, so I know you aren't alone?"

He shrugged, eyebrows drawn together a little making a furrow in his forehead. "She can stay if she wants."

John nodded, turning back to Kate. "He's still fuzzy from those damn drugs in his system. Thanks."

"Not a problem," she said, moving toward the desk. She dropped the radio on top before grabbing the chair and pushing it toward the bed. "Rodney and I will be just fine. Right?"

Rodney looked at Kate for a long moment before nodding. "Yes. We'll be fine."

Hesitating only another moment, John nodded again and slipped out.

The rest of his week passed in much of a blur. He managed to get all his appointments rescheduled, so the mornings were filled with PT and sessions with Kate—sometimes with Rodney, and sometimes without—and his afternoons were taken up with reports and planning and all the other administrative duties he had fallen behind on.

By the declared end of the Atlantean week, he was exhausted, with more and more problems cropping up. Hopefully the obstacle course would fix them, but until then… At least Rodney was getting better. It was slow, but Carson had found a medication that worked without making him comatose, and the sessions with Kate seemed to be helping. John leaned back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck.

Just one more appointment, with the Training Course Committee, and he would be done for the day. Gathering up what he needed, he made his way down to the conference room, to find Lorne, Elizabeth, Radek, and Sergeant Cooliey—someone John didn't know well, but whom Elizabeth had chosen as her military liaison for the project—already waiting for him. "Am I late?"

"Actually," Weir said, glancing down at her PDA, "we're just finishing up."

He blinked, checking his watch. "Okay, I know I'm not that late..."

"Doctor Weir, did you need us…" Radek asked, looking across the table.

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, I think we covered everything. We'll reconvene in two days. I'll coordinate with you all on the scheduling."

Radek and the Sergeant rose, leaving the conference room. John stepped aside as they passed, his eyes fixed on Elizabeth and Lorne.

He moved into the room, letting the door close, although he didn't sit, choosing to lean against the wall instead, his posture deceptively lazy. "Something you want to tell me?"

"I was hoping to discuss this with you beforehand, but we never seemed to connect before the meeting," she began, eyes sliding to her PDA and then back to John. "Because of the complaints filed by Major Jameson, I believed it would be prudent to make sure you had no connection with the special training course day we were planning. Major Lorne was only here to answer specific questions Doctor Zelenka and Sergeant Cooliey had. Since you said it had been his idea originally, I felt it was appropriate to call him in."

John relaxed slightly, but was still irritated at having been kept out of the loop. "All right, but you couldn't have shot me an email telling me that? At least giving me the heads-up so I didn't walk in here looking like an idiot?"

She glanced down again and Lorne shifted in his seat. "I apologize for that," she said.

He narrowed his eyes. "Okay, what else is going on here? The two of you wouldn't be this uncomfortable over what is a good idea to achieve our objectives with this."

"Major Jameson has filed two more complaints," she said tightly, "and they will need to be answered. Apart from the one against Ronon, he has filed two others against both you and Major Lorne for dereliction of duty."

He felt like he had been punched. "What...and when the hell were you going to tell me?"

She winced slightly at his tone. "Now, actually. There's no basis for these complaints, but they will still need to be answered."

He closed his eyes and counted backwards from twenty, trying to cool his temper. When he opened them again, both Elizabeth and Lorne were watching him. He dropped down into an empty chair. "Do you have a copy of the complaints? What is he alleging?"

"I have them in my office," she said with a sigh. "Basically, he says the way you handled the incident involving him and Ronon was handled badly, that you were playing favorites, and it was not handled according to military protocol."

John narrowed his eyes. "I went to see him as soon as he was allowed visitors, and tried to personally get his report—the same thing I did for Ronon. He refused to talk to me, or give me his version of events."

"He claimed you did not come to get his report and sent Major Lorne instead."

"Bullshit. Lorne beat me to it, yes, but I wasn't far behind him. The nursing staff can attest to that—I was down there a half-hour after Lorne left. And what is the complaint against the Major, when it comes to that?"

"More of the same, I'm afraid."

"Fuck." The fight went out of John and he slumped into his chair. Retiring and taking Rodney to live somewhere peaceful and carefree was starting to look more and more appealing. "All right, so how do we resolve this?"

Elizabeth glanced up, her lips pressed together in a thin line. "We simply have to answer each of his…accusations. It's mostly paperwork at this point. But because it has been officially filed, we have to answer it."

John nodded, feeling the strain of pushing himself over the last few days, and helping Rodney get better. "All right. Tell me where you want me to start."

"I'll give you a copy of his report so you can see his…complaints. From there it's just a matter of refuting them. If you have witnesses or other documentation that can help to strengthen your side, include it."

He looked her in the eye. "Worst-case scenario?"

"Absolute worst case?"

"Yes."

"You get assigned to Antarctica or get sent to the middle of the battle zone in the Middle East and they send someone in to replace you, probably Colonel Caldwell. That won't happen. I won't let it."

He closed his eyes again. "Would they let me retire at that point?"

"John, this is all conjecture. Just answer his objections and we're done."

He opened his eyes, catching and holding her gaze. "Is it worth it at this point? I'm losing control of the base, and I think we all need to acknowledge that. It would be easier for you if someone new came in and didn't have the—reputation and history that I do working against them. You don't need this kind of dissent."

"No." Her tone was firm, unmovable. "You are exactly what Atlantis needs and I'm not going to let some bureaucrat's son change my mind."

His lips twitched up a bit. "All right, just making sure. Get me a copy of the complaints—against myself and Lorne. I'll send you a draft of our response, and you can diplomatic it up, since at this point, silly ass is about the nicest thing I can call Jameson."

"I have some much more…colorful terms I can use," Elizabeth said, standing. "We'll figure this out, John, and I’m sorry about before. Things…got away from me for a while. I won't waste your time like that again."

"You weren't wasting my time. And believe me, I know about losing track of time." He shot a lazy smile her direction, before turning his attention back to his second. "Lorne, head down to the infirmary and get statements from anyone who was on duty and is willing to go on record saying we were both down there getting Jameson's side of things that morning. Then meet me in my office. I want to get this taken care of tonight."

"Give me an hour and I'll have what you need." Lorne rose, already heading for the door.

They worked late into the night—John didn't even know what time it was anymore. Both he and Lorne had made themselves comfortable with purloined coffee from the science labs, and were going over every bit of the response section by section, more than once. It wasn't until someone cleared their throat in the doorway that they even realized time had passed.

"Whatever happened to curfews?"

Blinking, John glanced at his watch. "Shit, Rodney, I'm sorry! I didn't even realize... Have a seat, we're just about done here for the night." He held out his coffee thermos, which still had about a cup left.

Rodney moved into John's office, shaking his head at the coffee. "Carson told me to cut back."

At the last moment, John stopped himself from pulling Rodney over and wrapping his arms around him. "What do you say, Evan, call it a night and finish this in the morning when we're both coherent?"

"You're the one who wanted to finish, sir," he said looking up, bleary-eyed and a little pale.

"I didn't think we would be at it this long. You should have said something—you look like shit. Go to bed, Lorne. Meet me back here at 1100 and we'll get this damn thing finalized and to Elizabeth."

"Sounds good, sir," he said, climbing to his feet with a groan. "See you in the morning, sir. Night, McKay."

"See you in the morning, Major." John slumped into his chair once Lorne was gone, gratified when Rodney moved to sit on his lap and curl against him as soon as the other man was out of sight. "Sorry. I really didn't think it had gotten this late."

"I waited and then I fell asleep. When I woke up and you weren't there I figured it was time to come looking." Rodney paused, looking at John carefully. "Something happen with Elizabeth?"

"Good plan." John rested his head against Rodney's body. "Not her. Jameson filed a complaint against Lorne and I. We need to have the response ready to go with the complaints in the data burst day after tomorrow. Hence the late night rush. Elizabeth needs time to look it over, and we need time for any revisions."

"Oh." Rodney was silent again for a long moment. "Why didn't he complain when this first happened? Would make more sense. He has connections, doesn't he? Did someone talk him into it?"

"Huh. I don't think any of us thought of that—at least I didn't. The problem is that asking around will raise red flags, make people think I'm on a witch hunt of some sort. I have enough morale problems as it is."

"I can ask."

John pulled him down for a quick kiss. "Thanks. Let me know what you hear. I'd like to avoid the worst-case scenario if at all possible, and the more proof we have that there was no misconduct on mine or Lorne's end, the better."

"So since it's already god-awful early in the morning, can we go to bed?"

"Best idea I've heard all day. Although I have to warn you, I don't think I'm up for much more than naked cuddling and passing out."

"I'll take what I can get," Rodney said with a smile, standing and pulling John to his feet. "Besides, we've already missed the chance for two fuckings yesterday."

John quickly hit save on his laptop before closing it and grabbing it to take with him, chuckling. "I'm falling down on the job. Maybe I should lie back and let you ride me, since you got a nap in and all."

"I’m napping twice a day and sleeping all night and it's still not enough," Rodney complained. He certainly sounded better, but he was right, he still tired very easily.

"But you are getting better. It just takes time. By this time next week, you'll be down to one nap, maybe less, at the rate you're going. It's great progress—and I can't believe I just said that, as pissed as I was getting when people said it to me a few weeks ago."

"Kate keeps convincing me I’m getting better. It just doesn't feel like I am," he said with a sigh as they walked back to the living quarters.

"You are. I'm an objective observer, and believe me, you look and sound worlds better than you did at the beginning of the week."

"Objective my ass."

John chuckled again. "But it's such a nice ass."

"See. Partial and biased." Rodney glanced over at John, a pleased smile on his face.

John leered a little, unable to hold it as he broke into a grin at Rodney's expression. As soon as they crossed the doorway to his room, John turned, pushing his lover back against the door. "I changed my mind. Now I want a piece of that gorgeous ass."

"I thought you were too tired. I think your exact words were 'I don't think I can do more than naked cuddling'."

"That was before you started wiggling your ass at me." John sank to his knees, deftly unbuttoning Rodney's pants and pulling them just down to his thighs before turning his lover around. He kissed each cheek softly, smiling into them.

"I do not wiggle and you will find my ass is currently occupied."

"You so did. All the way back to the room you were wiggling it. How is a guy supposed to turn down an offer like that?" He was kneading each perfect globe as he talked.

"Mmmm," Rodney hummed, leaning into the wall. "Did I mention that I don't have anymore of the stupid body checks with Carson? Just a usual check up tomorrow."

"Oh really...?" With a satisfied purr, John licked a spot to give Rodney a little warning, then set about marking him, putting his own brand on the perfect skin in front of him.

Rodney yelped at first, but was moaning in contentment within a minute, holding still as John marked him on the same cheek he'd spanked and bruised.

When he was satisfied with the mark, John expanded his attentions, licking, kissing, and nipping until he had given attention to every square inch of Rodney's ass.

McKay was trembling above him, moaning quietly and constantly.

When he got to the plug decorating Rodney's entrance, he kissed it, tonguing all around it.

"John…oh god, John." Rodney's voice was breathy, full of pleasure and want.

"Mmmmm." With a little work, he managed to get his tongue inside Rodney along with the plug, swirling it around a bit.

"Please, John…oh…please…"

John just hummed and continued his teasing. If Rodney was going to taunt him with his perfect ass, John was going to take advantage of it at every opportunity.

And as much as John knew that Rodney wanted to squirm and move away from him, he didn't. He trembled and moaned, but stayed still, submitting to John, knowing that was what he wanted. John reached around, feeling the flesh-warmed metal of the cock ring, stroking Rodney slowly with barely enough pressure.

Rodney was hard and silky and soft and already leaking steadily from the tip. John pulled his face away, kissing each cheek softly once again. "Strip out of these clothes and go lie on the bed."

Groaning loudly, Rodney panted into his forearm before pushing off the wall, stumbling to the bed with his pants around his knees. John stayed where he was, watching as Rodney stripped, clothes dropping randomly around the room. A shirt went one way, the boots and pants another. The socks were tossed somewhere toward the bathroom, but neither one made it far. Rodney settled carefully on the bed, lying on his stomach, legs spread wide, leaving him open for John.

Standing, John forced himself to lean against the wall, crossing his legs. "Roll over onto your back for a minute."

"What? Why?" Rodney panted even as he shifted over onto his back, looking across the room at John.

John kept his arms crossed, more to prevent him from touching himself than anything else. "Wrap your hand around your own dick. Stroke it slowly, lightly. Enough to feel good and nothing else."

Rodney whimpered slightly, but he shifted a little, his right hand wrapping around his cock. Starting at the base just above the cock ring, he stroked upward toward the red and leaking tip. After a few stokes, his eyes slid shut and he thrust up a little into his hand.

"Ah ah. Eyes open and keep it slow. Don't move your hips—I want to watch you touch yourself."

Rodney groaned loudly, whimpering as he opened his eyes, his rhythm stuttering. "Please, John…"

John let his eyes sweep his lover's body, his own tingling with need and arousal at the sight. "Do you have any idea how fucking hot you are?"

He shook his head, his hand starting to move once again even while his left hand clutched at the sheets.

"You are. You make me crazy sometimes, wanting to touch you and suck you and just stand back and watch you, all at the same time."

"Please…touch me. John, please…"

"I will. Eventually. Right now I'm watching. Use your other hand to rub the spot between your balls and your entrance. Don't touch the plug."

Rodney moaned again, but moved to obey. He rolled onto his side, reaching around behind himself. He buried his head in his pillow as he moaned, his fingers apparently finding the spot. He shifted again, pulling up his leg to give himself better access—and almost like he was putting himself on display. And John could almost see Rodney doing this to himself before and that's what made it even hotter.

Swallowing hard, John dug his fingers into his own arm, searching for self-control. "Let me hear you. Don't hold back."

Rodney shifted, still leaning into the pillow with his forehead, but making sure his mouth was free of the material, the moans louder, more desperate.

"Are you thinking about me, Rodney? What it feels like when I touch you like that? Are you touching yourself like I do?"

"You feel different, better," Rodney managed to whisper between moans and gasps.

"Move the hand on your cock up to your chest. Drag it there slowly, while you continue to rub that sweet spot. When you get to a nipple, run your finger over it a few times to make it perky."

Rodney moaned, his hand moving slowly, leaving a trail of pre-come in its wake. His finger lightly touched his nipple and he groaned before he tweaked it several times. It hardened quickly, pulling another long groan from McKay.

John purred, his pants starting to get more than a little uncomfortable. "Very, very good. So beautiful, Rodney. Pinch the nipple hard, hold it until I tell you to let go."

"John, please…"

"Now, Rodney."

He whimpered, but his fingers bore down, pinching the sensitive nipple hard as his other hand continued to stroke that small patch of skin behind his cock.

John waited until Rodney was keening before he told his lover to release the abused nub. He couldn't hold back anymore and finally moved to the bed, claiming his lover's mouth in a possessive kiss. When he pulled back, a spark of satisfaction went through him at how totally wrecked Rodney was. "You're so fucking perfect."

"Please, John…please."

"Please what?" He smiled lazily, getting a loose grip on Rodney's erection, which was leaking steadily now.

"Hurts. Want you, please, John. Don't leave me like this, please god, I need to come, please, John. Please, I've been good. Please…" By the end, Rodney was almost sobbing, begging for release.

"Shhh, it's okay. I'm not going to leave you like this. I promise." John kissed him again gently on the mouth before pushing Rodney onto his back. He trailed kisses down his lover's chest, stopping to sooth the red and swollen nipple with his tongue.

Rodney's hands trailed over John's still-clothed back, fingers in search of skin as they tugged at the edge, trying to lift it.

Lifting his head, John shook his head slightly. "You'll get your chance in a bit. Right now, I just want to focus on you. My own pleasure will only get in the way."

"Please, John," Rodney said, his hands not letting up as he managed to get one side of John's t-shirt free form the waist of his pants.

John caught his hands, pressing a kiss into each palm before pushing them above his head. "Soon. You're going to make me feel good in a little while. Right now, I just want you to feel."

"I was feeling."

Chuckling, John worked his way down far enough to lick a strip up Rodney's erection. "Feeling, not feeling me up."

Rodney yelped, his hands staying above his head for less than a minute as John pressed kisses to the inside of Rodney's thighs. Hands were in John's hair, fingers running through the strands before drifting down to caress the skin at his temple.

Since it felt damn good, John didn't call him on it. If he had really wanted to enforce no touching, he would have tied his lover to the bed. Instead, he started to hum as he swallowed him down.

Rodney's hands stilled for a moment as he moaned loudly. The caresses started up again a few moments later, the touches random and his rhythm stilted, unable to concentrate for very long as John sucked him. Rodney spread his legs a little, giving John more room, more access.

When Rodney was sobbing incoherently with the need for release, John flicked the cock ring off and took him deep, swallowing a few times and increasing his humming.

It didn't take long before Rodney was moaning loudly and coming hard, spilling into John's mouth with pulse after pulse of pleasure. He collapsed against the bed, sated and pliant as the aftershocks made his body jerk and tremble. John chuckled as he pulled off, flipping Rodney over onto his back with ease. Making quick work of the plug in Rodney's ass, John pulled his aching cock out of his pants. A passing swipe of lube and he pushed in, loving the tight heat of his lover's ass.

He was close, just from watching and tasting Rodney's pleasure, so it only took a few hard thrusts before he was coming, his orgasm ripping through his body. He pulled out and managed to fall to the side so he didn't crush his lover.

Rodney was still panting, spread out completely on the bed—wrecked and thoroughly fucked. With a wicked grin, John managed to move just enough to grab the plug, sliding it back into place as Rodney moaned deeply.

"Now you'll sleep all night knowing I'm inside you."

Rodney turned his head toward John, his pupils blown out. "Always."

John purred again, then sighed softly. "I need to get out of these clothes and clean us up."

"Stay."

He rolled to his side so he could see Rodney better. "I'll be right back."

"Just stay," Rodney said, moving closer.

After a heartbeat, John tucked himself back into his pants to avoid injuring important bits and pieces, then pulled Rodney into his arms. "Okay. I'll be here when you wake up."

Rodney curled in, his leg sliding between John's, arms wrapping around Sheppard as if he were afraid he was going to run away.

John buried his head in Rodney's neck, the long day—hell, the long week—catching up to him. With a contented murmur, he slipped into dreams of Rodney and sex and love.

***

Rodney woke up surrounded by John—a still fully clothed John. Shifting slightly in his lover's arms, he moaned lightly as the rough fabric rubbed against his skin, goose bumps erupting all over his body.

Over the past week as he struggled with his memories and guilt from the last mission, John had been more than understanding. He'd been patient and kind, taking care of him even when he didn't know which way was up, what was right or wrong, or even who he was.

He still had doubts and worries, but the medicine Carson had put him on and the daily sessions with Kate had helped. He'd talked through a lot of it—some with John, other times without—but even when he was angry and frustrated, John had taken it in stride, holding him, calming him, fucking him—whatever it took to get his head back on straight.

He never thought John had it in him.

Rodney knew intellectually that John always said he cared, that he wanted to take care of him, but it really wasn't until now, this time, that Rodney knew it mentally, emotionally.

He'd never felt so loved and cared for—for who he was and nothing more. He wasn't pulling some fantastic or unbelievable solution out of his ass to save the city. He wasn't doing anything spectacular—usually the very opposite.

He still got sad and quiet, but the blackouts were all but gone and he'd finally found his radio—placed carefully in a small alcove out on the West Pier. He still didn't remember walking out that way, but the radio was proof that he'd been there and apparently had thought it was a good place for radio safekeeping. Rodney was just grateful it hadn't poured and washed it out to sea. Programming it had been a bitch.

Shifting again, Rodney felt the plug in his ass, reminding him of the fuck only a few hours ago in the small hours of the morning and the come still locked deep inside. In a way, without the cock ring he felt naked, having spent the last week wearing the cock ring, collar, and plug nearly all day and night except for when John was fucking him. And even then, the collar never came off.

John had been so understanding, so caring it hurt sometimes to look at him, to see the openness on his face when they were alone together. He wanted to smooth away the hurt and the worry from his face.

And just when he thought he was better the nightmares would return, leaving him crying out for John, begging for an invisible enemy to let John go, pleading to them not to hurt him. He'd wake up sobbing, John holding him close, rocking him and soothing him until he fell asleep once again, hiccupping and spent from the release and the night terror.

Last night had been a good night—except for the time before, when he'd fallen asleep alone. He'd woken up suddenly, a scream locked in the back of his throat as his body trembled. Had he not been startled awake, he would have slept and would have left John and Lorne working on their report. But, in search of comfort he could only get from his lover, Rodney had sought him out, finding them slumped over the desks, barely alert but writing an official report.

Convincing John to come to bed hadn't been hard—and the sex had been fantastic.

Sighing contentedly, Rodney pressed a kiss to the top of John's head, tugging him closer. He was surprised when John started sucking at a patch of skin on his neck, just above the collar.

"Mmmm…John?"

"Morning. Time s'it?" His voice was still rough with sleep.

"Um…morning sometime. Didn't look yet." Looking meant moving and he wasn't up for that.

John hummed and went back to kissing and sucking lightly on his neck. It wasn't hard enough to mark, since it was above the collar line, but it still sent shivers through his body.

Rodney sighed, angling his head back to offer John the length of his throat.

John rolled so he was on top of Rodney, his clothes rubbing goose bumps into Rodney's skin again as he settled his weight. Moving slowly up Rodney's neck, he eventually settled for kissing at just the corner of Rodney's mouth. "So what's on your agenda for today? Anything fun and exciting?"

"I'm meeting with Carson and Kate today—as usual. I’m running out of things to say so maybe we're just about done with this dog and pony show. I'd like to do some work, but apart from trying to find out what crawled up Jameson's ass and died, nothing. Why?"

Grinning, John licked along the seam of Rodney's mouth. "You'll be cleared for at least light duties soon I'm sure. You're worlds better, and if you're getting bored, that's a good sign you're getting better."

Rodney shrugged. "Maybe."

"Mmmm. No maybes about it. I've got to spend the morning finishing up this damn response with Lorne. At least I don't have daily PT and Kate sessions anymore. They cut it back to every other day."

"Lucky you."

"You'll get there. Remember only a few weeks ago you found me huddled on Kate's floor." John turned his teasing into an actual kiss for a moment. "I'm proud of you. You're doing really well."

"I just want to be done already."

"You will be. Soon. The obstacle course is scheduled for early next week—I'm working on Kate to convince Carson to clear you for it. And if you're cleared for that, you'll be cleared for resuming other duties as well."

"I guess." He was not looking forward to that stupid course or talking to Ronon. He'd since managed to avoid that part. He was hoping John had forgotten about it.

John read his reaction the wrong way. "You'll do fine, Rodney. The course will be like a cakewalk compared to the field. It's more to prove to the Marines that an AF officer knows what he's doing than anything else."

"Maybe you should just do it without me. It would be better that way."

"No. You're part of my team. I want you there. I want to prove I made the right choices. I need to prove it if I'm ever going to get control back. The guys who have been here are loyal, but the new ones... And the longer we're back in touch with Earth, the more there will be of the latter and not the former."

"Wanting something to happen and actually having it happen are two very different things."

"It will be fine. We'll kick their collective asses, and then, hopefully, the ones that are just following the leaders because they don't know any better will fall back in line. I can deal with the troublemakers, and not the whole base at that point."

Rodney sighed. "I guess." He shifted, the rough fabric of John's clothes scratching against his skin.

With a grin, John deliberately started to move his body, brushing every single one of Rodney's hot spots.

"John?" Rodney moaned as John brushed against his cock. "What…what are you doing?"

"Teasing you. I thought that would be obvious. You know, genius and all." He was still grinning, still moving.

"Hmm…maybe," Rodney said, lifting his head to brush his lips against John's.

He got a deep chuckle in response as John deepened the kiss and ground down a little against Rodney's groin.

Moaning into John's mouth, Rodney bucked upward, trying to get more friction, more contact. His hands were wrapped around John's body, kneading at the muscles in his back and ass.

John answered with a moan of his own. He broke off, gasping. "God, naked. I really need to be naked."

"You were the one who decided to sleep in his clothes."

"Because you asked me to stay. And now I need to be naked." John gasped and ground down again as Rodney managed to work a hand under his shirt to brush a nipple. "Oh... Fuck..."

Rodney chuckled. "Yes, I asked you to stay in your own room."

John hung his head and panted as Rodney continued to tease him. "You... wouldn't let me... get up. Needed me... Couldn't say no to that... Oh God... Rodney..."

"And that hasn't stopped you from telling me no before."

"Maybe I like...being clothed...when you're...deliciously naked."

"Hmmm…I like that, too," Rodney said, lifting his head again to kiss John, his hand still playing with the other man's nipple.

John opened his mouth, letting Rodney in, letting him control the kiss. He didn't get the chance to do whatever he wanted very often, so he took the opportunity to play—at least until John stopped it.

With one hand attached to John's nipple, the other slid down to hold his ass, pulling him closer, tighter, making sure their groins rubbed together. Rodney spread his legs, settling John even closer. The fabric against Rodney's skin felt amazing. But he needed more.

Tugging his hand free from where it was crushed between them, Rodney wrapped his legs around John, his hands framing his lover's face—one on each side, fingers twining into his hair—holding him steady as they kissed, wet and dirty.

John moaned into Rodney's mouth, his body trembling with the effort of holding still.

With battling tongues and panting moans, they kissed, John's arms wrapped around Rodney's shoulders, sliding between his body and the bed. Rodney's right hand slid to the back of John's head, pulling him closer, forcing their mouths together even further.

When they had to break for air, John buried his head in the curve of Rodney's neck. "Oh God... pants... need to come off before I..."

But Rodney just tugged John back into place, pressing lips together until John opened his mouth and let Rodney in.

John's mouth was getting more desperate, and his hips ground down again. He was close to coming without Rodney ever touching his dick, just from kissing.

And right now, the only way Rodney was going to stop kissing John was if he forced him. This was…he could live on kissing John some days—morning breath and all.

With a breathy noise at the back of his throat, John shuddered, the fabric rubbing against Rodney's erection getting damp. He slumped further down, pressing Rodney more firmly into the bed. He didn't break the kiss, although his mouth did go a bit slack.

Rodney chuckled low and dirty and deep, his legs around John tightening down as he started to nibble at the edges of John's mouth and lips, sucking on the bottom one before diving back in for another kiss.

John opened up, letting Rodney in. His body was relaxed now, pliant.

With his hands roaming over John's back, running under his shirt and sliding along the waistband of his pants, Rodney spent the next several minutes kissing John, feeling him. It had gone from wet and dirty to slow and lazy, Rodney's own need for release pushed into the back of his mind.

"Mmmmmmmmm... so good... made me come in my pants again. Don't stop doing that." John arched as Rodney pulled a fingernail up and down his side.

Shoving John's shirt higher, Rodney rubbed his hands against John's back before stilling, spreading his fingers to cover as much skin as possible. His tongue traced the edges of John's mouth.

John sighed, and surprisingly relaxed even further. "Lemme know if I'm crushing you. Feel so good."

"Feels good. Safe," Rodney whispered, the answer surprising him and making him pause for a moment before he moved to kiss John again.

Making a contented noise, John returned the kiss, licking all along the inside of Rodney's mouth.

After a brief battle of tongue and will—and banged noses—Rodney slowly lost himself in the feel of tongue against tongue, lips against lips, body against body. He opened up, moaning quietly as John slowly took over once again. John's kisses promised the world and Rodney knew he'd deliver.

Pushing himself up slightly again, John worked a hand between them, wrapping his fingers loosely around Rodney's dick, thumb at the tip idly swirling through the pre-come as they kissed.

Groaning, Rodney shuddered as his arousal spiked through him. He lifted his head, trying to deepen the kiss again, his fingers digging into John's back and arm, but Sheppard wouldn't let him.

He lifted his head, looking down on Rodney with an expression full of love and affection. "Your turn to feel good."

"Already do," Rodney panted, his hands tracing down John's sides, determined to get another shudder out of the man.

His lover's breath stuttered, and the shudder Rodney was looking for passed though his body. "Rodney... Love you so much." He tightened his grip, beginning to stroke slowly.

Rodney's hands stilled as he sucked in a breath, John's touch lighting up every nerve in his body. He arched up into John as much as he could, groaning again. Oh god, oh god. Felt so good.

John ducked his head, his mouth latching on to a patch of skin on Rodney's shoulder. Using teeth and tongue, he sucked as he picked up the pace of his hand. "Come whenever you want," was whispered wetly against Rodney's skin.

He moaned, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, John's hands and lips on his body sending him higher and higher. But Rodney held on.

John didn't seem to be in any hurry to make him come. Instead, he played, moving from the spot on Rodney's shoulder to his nipple, sucking on it and teasing it with his tongue for a while.

Rodney felt himself slipping down, letting John's teasing take over his senses.

He continued to work his way down Rodney's body, moving from place to place seemingly at random. Eventually, he mouthed his way to Rodney's dick, kissing and licking the tip before letting it slip into his mouth. He focused on the head, continuing to stroke the rest of the aching member with his hand.

All Rodney had left were moans and groans as his body responded to John.

John began to hum softly, finding the slit and licking away all the pre-come, then moving to the little bundle of nerves at the ridge.

Shuddering hard, Rodney held on, desperate to come, but also desperate to hold on as long as possible.

Chuckling around his mouthful, John just kept up the assault. He knew Rodney's body better than Rodney himself—and for now he seemed content to slowly drive him out of his mind.

Rodney found his fingers threaded through John's hair, fisting the strands, trying to tug the man up and away. He was hovering on the edge but he didn't want to go over yet.

John resisted. He didn't lift his head, but he did slow his hand so it was just wrapped around Rodney without moving.

Panting, Rodney felt the desperateness slide away, but another need rose quickly. Kissing. Kissing would be better right now. At least that's what Rodney thought as he tried to tug John up.

Finally lifting his head, John raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

"Come here, please," Rodney whispered, begging, hands reaching for John's shoulder or hand—anything to tug him up.

His lover hesitated for a moment. "Close your eyes for me first."

"Please, John," Rodney whispered as his eyes slid shut. A moment later, Rodney felt the bed shift and then John was gone. With a panicked moan, Rodney's eyes flew open and he sat up, nearly braining John in the process.

A hand in his chest pushed him back down, soothing him. "Relax for me and close your eyes. I'm not going anywhere, just getting something."

"But John—"

"No buts. Lie back and close your eyes. Trust me."

Rodney whimpered, but obeyed, his body relaxing against the bed, his eyes sliding shut. He folded his hands on his chest and waited, his pulse finally slowing. He could hear John moving quietly around the room, but he had no idea what he was doing.

After a moment, and without any warning, John shifted him onto his side and the plug was pulled out of his ass. Before Rodney could react, something else was pushed in its place—one of the dildos. After a heartbeat, it started to vibrate against his prostate.

Rodney shuddered and moaned, his body reacting immediately to the new sensation.

After another minute—and a bit more rustling around the room—he was rolled back onto his back and clamps were swiftly attached to his nipples. And then they started vibrating, too.

"Oh….oh John…." Rodney shifted, hands reaching out for the other man only to be caught and held tightly.

His hands were pushed above his head, and then John settled on top of him—naked now if the slick slide of skin on skin was any indication. His mouth found Rodney's, pulling him into deep, passionate kisses once again.

So good. So good. So good. The chant in Rodney's head drowned out any other thoughts as John devoured his mouth, the toys sending so many sensations through his body.

Breaking the kiss, John moved to lick at the corner of Rodney's mouth. "What are you feeling right now? What do you wish I was doing to you?"

"Want to only feel you," Rodney finally managed to get out, his thoughts scattered.

His hands were pushed a bit into the pillow. "Don't move them." In the next heartbeat, a blindfold and gag were slipped on. John must have grabbed them earlier.

He moaned into the gag as John buckled it on behind his head, the sensations from the dildo and nipple clamps feeling like they were intensifying.

John set about arranging him. Rodney's hands stayed above his head, but his legs were drawn up so his feet were flat on the bed, then pushed wide open. It changed the angle of the dildo, pushing it harder against his prostate.

Groaning, Rodney shifted, fighting slightly against John's handling.

"I told you not to move. I don't want to use restraints right now. I want you to obey."

He moaned through the gag, but tried to still. His body apparently had other ideas as he shifted again.

John's hand settled in the middle of his stomach, pushing slightly. "I know it's hard. Relax into it. Give yourself up to me and stop trying to fight it."

Nodding, Rodney took as large of a breath of air through his nose as he could and willed his body to relax—even though it was the farthest thing from his mind.

John rubbed circles on his stomach, talking him softly through it. "You're doing good. Just like that, buddy. Breathe for me, and give your body up to me."

Rodney concentrated on his breathing. In and out. In and out. In and out. His muscles loosened and he shuddered as his arousal began again to overtake him in earnest.

While John continued to soothe with one hand, the other came around to toy with Rodney's balls, rolling them lightly between his fingers.

It was like John's hands and fingers had a direct connection with the pleasure centers in his brain, because every time John touched him parts of his mind seemed to short out piece by piece. It was getting harder and harder to hang on, to hold on and not let go.

"Let go, Rodney. Let me see you come. You're beautiful like that, open for me, nothing but pleasure."

Rodney whimpered, clenching his hands above his head, his body trembling under the pressure.

John's fingers moved down, pushing the dildo in and out fractions of inches. "So beautiful..."

Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod.

And between one breath and another Rodney felt his body freeze for the briefest of moments and then he was coming, hard, come splattering all over his chest and stomach. He felt his head loll to the side as his legs collapsed against the bed, limp and sated.

Panting around the gag, Rodney barely felt anything else except the twitches his muscles made as he came down off his high.

The next thing he knew was curled against John's chest, his lover's arms wrapped tightly around him.

The vibrations were gone, as was the gag, although the blindfold was still in place. John was whispering softly to him, nuzzling in his hair. "So good, Rodney. You're so perfect. Love you so much..."

Rodney moaned quietly, shifting against John, trying to bury his face even closer to his chest as he breathed in the smell of his lover.

John gathered him closer, just holding him. Rodney felt the faint press of lips against the side of his head.

John's fingers were on his back, stroking gently up and down, soothing and restful. There was nothing between them, simply skin on skin, touching everywhere, pressing close. Rodney could vaguely feel the flesh-warmed metal of John's tags between them and the weight of his own collar around his neck, but it was right, perfect.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that before John sighed softly. "As much as I want to stay here all day with you like this..."

"Don't leave." The words were whispered and immediate, tinted with a desperation that Rodney didn't realize he'd been feeling.

"I don't have to, not yet. But we do need to shower and start getting ready for the day. Maybe have breakfast." John pressed more soft kisses onto any skin he could reach between words.

"Not hungry."

John chuckled, the puff of air hot in Rodney's hair. "Okay. But come shower with me. I want to clean you up."

"Comfy."

"Mmmm, me too. But I don't think Elizabeth would be very happy if we started having meetings while cuddling naked. It would raise more than a few eyebrows."

"Don't care." And right now, Rodney didn't care one iota. It wasn't like he had to go back to work. He was on medical leave. If sleeping naked all day next to his lover was what he did, then that was what he did.

Fingers slipped under his chin, tilting it up for the press of a warm mouth against his. It was brief, affectionate, and made his chest ache all over again at how much emotion he had for this man. "I know. But I have to finish this report, buddy. I need to meet Lorne in a bit to polish it off before meeting with Elizabeth again."

Rodney leaned forward, managing to catch John's mouth in another kiss instead of answering. Kissing was better.

"Mmmmm." John opened up briefly, letting Rodney in again. But then he pulled away, tugging the blindfold off. "Come on. A shower will feel good. It's wet naked cuddling—you can't go wrong with that."

"No." He didn't care if he sounded whiny.

John's fingers curled around his face again, forcing him to look up at his gently smiling lover. "I love you, too, Rodney."

He scowled lightly, sighing. "Just because you have work to do doesn't mean I do."

"Yes, you do." John's smile morphed into a grin. "You're going to go be sneaky for me, remember?"

"I'm as subtle as a sledgehammer. You know that, right?"

"That's okay. It was you who thought to ask the question. If you can turn anything up, great. But if not, we'll go with what we have." John stretched, muscles shifting under skin in distracting ways, before he started to pull away and roll out of the bed.

Rodney managed to grab onto his arm, tugging him back down. "Nonono. Stay here."

John allowed himself to be pulled onto his back again. "I do have to shower and go to work today. I might not be cleared for full, active duty, but I'm not on light duty anymore either."

Rodney rolled on his side, swinging his leg and arm over John's body. "Call in sick."

John's body jiggled a bit with his silent laughter. "I wish I could. I have to finish that report though. If I don't have a response, it could hurt not only my career, but Lorne's as well, and put Elizabeth in a bad position."

"You should have finished it last night." Rodney curled in closer, his head on John's chest just above his heart, hand tracing patterns on his skin.

"Someone very rightly pointed out that it was a little too late to keep working, and we could attack it with fresh eyes today."

Rodney huffed. "Not my fault you don't work fast enough."

John's hand came up to rub Rodney's back. "Once everything is back to normal and this stupid shit is taken care of, we'll take a Jumper and go out to the mainland for the day. We'll bring a lunch and go to one of the secluded beaches and spend the whole day together. The official excuse will be testing of some sort."

Grimacing, Rodney shook his head. "And I'll get sand in places never made for sand. And let's not even begin to talk about the UV index. No thanks."

John rumbled his amusement again. "It will be fine. You'll be too busy being ravished to notice things like that, and I promise to clean away every grain of sand afterwards. I'll be very thorough."

"Sand and sex is a big no-no in my book."

"Have I ever steered you wrong when it comes to sex?" John's hand dipped from Rodney's back briefly to his ass, one finger brushing over his still-sensitive entrance.

"Sand…ohgod!...is bad." Rodney took a shuddering breath. "And you do not fight fair."

John's chuckle was evil this time, and he continued to stroke around the little hole, but didn't press inside. "And you love it when I don't fight fair."

"I do not," he protested even as he tried to shift so John's finger would slide in. It wasn't working.

John just moved his hand along with Rodney's body, keeping the touches light and teasing. "So you wouldn't like it at all if I teased you until you were hard and panting again, and then took you into the bathroom and fucked you again while we showered? Aw shucks."

"Damnit, just do something," Rodney said, shoving the words past his clenched teeth.

The finger disappeared completely, and John managed to wiggle out from under Rodney before he could stop it. "I will. In the shower." He sauntered into the bathroom, hips swaying seductively. And it was both disturbing and hot that he could walk that way.

"Bastard. I hate you," Rodney growled, curling onto his side, his cock already halfway hard.

John's laugh floated back to him over the sound of the water being turned on.

There was more than one way to take care of this problem, Rodney thought, his hand wrapping around his cock, slowly stroking himself to hardness. God, he'd missed this, used to do this all the time until John. Last night had been the first time he'd touched himself in months.

He didn't hear John come back out, so the hand gently pulling his away from his cock was a surprise. "That belongs to me, remember?"

"John! Nononono!"

"Shhhh." John's own hand curled around him, although he didn't move it, just held Rodney's dick. "Talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking right now."

He was supposed to be better, feel better. But he was….clingy, whiny, desperate for every small touch. He was so tired of feeling like that, so out of control. "John, please let go…John—"

"I will. Just tell me what's going on in that head of yours." True to his word, John moved his hand from Rodney's erection to the middle of his chest, thumb drawing slow circles.

Rodney rolled onto his back, arm thrown over his eyes. "I’m so fucking tired of everything."

"I know." John just kept rubbing, encouraging Rodney to continue.

Rodney's voice dropped down. "I can forget when you're here."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Rodney shook his head, his entire body moving. "You don't understand. You can't understand."

"So tell me. Talk to me. Help me understand what's wrong so I can help you fix it."

"I’m fucking tired of talking."

John sighed softly, but didn't get up.

But as John's thumb continued to make circles and patterns on his skin, he felt his body relaxing, unclenching. It was John, all John.

On the desk, John's radio beeped. He managed to lean over and snag it without lifting his hand off Rodney's chest. "Sheppard here. Yeah, Elizabeth, Lorne and I worked on it until we were both about to pass out. I'm meeting him in a few hours to finish it up." He paused for a moment. "Sure. I need to shower, but I'll meet you there in about a half-hour. Sheppard out."

Rodney turned onto his side, his back to John. "Have fun."

He sighed, rubbing his hand over Rodney's back. "I wish I could stay here with you. You know that. Come shower with me? Please?"

Rodney didn't answer either way figuring John would make his mind up for him anyway. Some things were just easier now, like that.

He felt his lover shift and then press a series of kisses into the side of his neck. "I want you to shower with me, but I won't force it on you. I love you, Rodney." And then he stood, slipping back into the bathroom.

And Rodney didn't think it was possible, but that just managed to make him feel worse. He heard the splashing of water as John stepped into the shower. God. He hated his mood swings—which Carson and Kate kept telling him were normal—but it was getting harder and harder on John.

It took him nearly five minutes to get out of bed and stumble into the bathroom. He stepped into the shower, immediately wrapping his arms around John—not caring that he just pressed his come-covered body against John's clean one.

John turned in his embrace, silently wrapping his arms around Rodney and pulling him close.

Tucking his head against John's shoulder and neck, Rodney simply held on, trying to say that he was sorry, that he was an idiot, that he was so, so, sorry.

John seemed to understand, his body relaxed and loose. The hands at Rodney's back were soothing again. After a few minutes, he carefully maneuvered Rodney against the wall and started to wash him, pressing kisses to each body part as it was cleaned.

He worked quickly, but was thorough and careful, as if he was trying not to spook him. The water finally shut off and John ushered him out of the shower stall where he dried him off before leading him back to the bed, making a face when he caught sight of the rumpled sheets. The sheets that reeked of sex.

"I think I need to do laundry. Hang on." With military efficiency, he stripped the bed, dumping the sheets into the hamper, and pulled out a clean set—the one spare set he owned, Rodney knew—and had the bed made again. "There we go. Much better. Less smelly."

Rodney turned to John, knowing his eyes were wide, pleading, and desperate. "John…"

His lover was immediately there, arms wrapping around Rodney again. "Whatever you need."

"I’m sorry."

John's lips grazed his temple. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

And sometimes, John's understanding and acceptance just made him ache more. How did he find someone like him? Oh wait. Didn't find. John found him.

"Rodney?" Fingers brushed away the little drop of moisture that had formed at the corner of his eye. "Love, please, tell me what's wrong."

"You're too goddamned understanding."

One eyebrow went up. "I'm...too understanding? And that's a bad thing?"

"I’m a selfish bastard most times and you're far too understanding. Just…" Rodney sucked in a trembling breath. "I’m sorry and I know you need to go."

John's fingers were gentle on his face, caressing. "You're not a selfish bastard. You've had a lot of people tell you that, made you feel like having an opinion about things is wrong somehow, and pushed you into thinking about yourself because no one else would. But they were all wrong, Rodney. You're amazing, perfect, and taking care of you is one of the best things that has ever happened to me."

Rodney closed his eyes as he leaned into John's hand, knowing if he said anything it would be horribly wrong and also knowing that his emotions were barely beneath the surface.

Soft lips brushed across his. "Come on, let's get you comfortable. I do have to go soon, but I want to make sure you're okay first."

"I’m okay," Rodney finally got out even as John maneuvered him to the bed, sitting him down on the edge.

Sheppard went to his knees, settling between Rodney's legs. "You are okay. I know you don't really believe it right now, but I promise, it will all get better. Just trust me."

"Elizabeth's waiting for you."

John captured his mouth in another kiss, deepening it for a long moment before he finally rose and started to get dressed. It didn't take him long, and then he was kissing Rodney again. "I love you. I'll come find you later for lunch."

"I'll…I might not be here. I might go out." I might go hide at the other end of Atlantis for a while, Rodney thought, deciding not to voice that part.

"I'll find you wherever. Let me know if you hear anything about Jameson."

Rodney nodded once, sharply, watching John as he gracefully glided around his quarters as he finished getting ready, the radio hooked on his ear the last thing to be put into place.

"Don't worry so much, if you can help it. Try to relax today. Love you." John smiled again, softly, before he slipped out the door.

Worry? What me worry? Rodney thought with a huff and sigh. He was too wired to sleep and too tired to move. He hated himself a little bit more every day.

Shoving his overweight body up from the bed, he padded around John's room, finding far more of his clothing in the drawers than he thought possible. Was there anything left in his own room? He shook his head and climbed into his clothes, absently fingering the metal collar after tugging on his shirt.

John's.

And that made him smile.

Heading out after going through the rest of his morning routine, Rodney headed for the mess—breakfast and coffee would be good, then maybe he'd swing by the infirmary to see if he could get that over with for the day.

Pseudo-eggs and toast and some kind of near-meat—what happened to the supplies from the Daedalus?—and two mugs of coffee, Rodney found a free table in the corner of the mess, settling in to enjoy his breakfast.

For once, no one bothered him. It was amazing and slightly insulting. Right now, he didn't care which as long as they left him alone. But it also made it a whole lot easier to eavesdrop—especially when you weren't trying to hold a pathetic excuse for a conversation with someone.

Most of the stuff was ordinary. But when he heard John's name, his head came up and he squinted across the room, trying to figure out where it was coming from. He spotted the culprit two tables away—one of the Marines—and he was holding court.

If he concentrated, he could pick out the words above the general buzz of conversation. "...I heard the SGC only promoted him because they were pushed into it. They really wanted to recall him, since he did such a shitty job, but politics forced them to not only let him stay here, but promote him as well."

Rodney huffed, his fork poised mid-air as he listened. He missed the next question, picking up half the response a few beats later.

"...Caldwell. He would have been a world better. Sheppard is a fucking AF guy, and one with a reputation to boot. They didn't even want him on this expedition originally. Supposedly he had been banished to serve out the remainder of his career after getting a black mark. He was only still in the service because someone pulled strings."

That someone had been O'Neill and it was because John could light up Ancient toys. That part was partially true…Rodney would argue with it, but he wouldn't be able to get too far.

"So how long will it take until they replace him?"

"Not long. I hear they're only waiting for him to fuck up bad enough that they can get around the politics. They already have enough to boot him out on his ass."

To Rodney's surprise another Marine, this one from the original expedition, stopped by the table, his face hard. "I don't know where you're getting your information Lieutenant, but it's dead wrong. Colonel Sheppard is a damn fine officer."

"You don't need to play kiss-ass, Henderson. Sheppard's not here."

Henderson just looked the other man up and down. "It really is a shame how far the standards of the SGC have sunk these days, letting pond scum like you through the gate. Do us all a favor and go get yourself caught by the Wraith. You'd probably give them indigestion—at least then you'd be useful for something."

The Marine shoved his chair back, stepping into Henderson's personal space. "You're a brown-nosing, kiss-up who got this gig in the first place because the SGC couldn't wait to get rid of its worst. Why don't you go fuck yourself? Or maybe, better yet, just offer yourself to Sheppard. I’m sure he'd be more than willing to take you into his special training program."

The rest of the Marine's crew had also stood, and Rodney saw a few of the other Marines who had elected to stay on Atlantis after they reestablished contact forming up around Henderson. "What's the matter, Michaels? You so insecure and stupid the only responses you can come up with are bad insults? I've heard better from a dead goat. If you're going to talk shit, learn to do it right. You're a disgrace to the Marine Corps. You wanna talk about special favors, why don't you tell your buddies here how you got to Atlantis? How you begged and pleaded your General Daddy to pull you off latrine duty in the armpit of the nation and let you do something special. I bet you cried, you pussy."

Rodney took a breath as he climbed to his feet. What the hell has gotten into these men? It was only going to be a few minutes before someone threw a punch. He hated these damn Alpha male games.

"What the hell is going on here?" Rodney asked as he moved into the fray, a few of the Marines stepping back to let him pass.

Michaels sneered at him. "Well looky here—"

He was cut off by Henderson. "Sorry to have disturbed your meal, Doctor McKay. We hear you'll be back on duty in time to run the obstacle course with the Colonel's team. I'll be looking forward to seeing you in action sir."

Rodney waved him off, concentrating on Michaels. He didn't need the suck-up either. "What's your problem?"

The Marine glared at him. "I have a problem with scientists on teams, endangering me and my men. You should all shut up and stay in the labs where you belong."

Rodney felt his eyes widen. "And what gave you all of this valuable insight, Lieutenant, huh? Has it been all of your experience here in the Pegasus galaxy? All two months of it? You've been on what? Two missions? Maybe three? Do you know why? It's because they're trying to find the easy missions for you. Ones you can't screw up."

Michaels took a step forward, only to be stopped by Henderson. "Try it. Try to throw a punch. Not only will I beat your shit into the ground, I'll have you brought up on charges of assault. And not only of a civilian, but the head of the science division. You'll be court-martialed so fast not even crying to Daddy will save you."

"Let the Lieutenant be, Henderson. He's a big boy. He can make his own decisions," Rodney commented, holding Michaels' eyes. "That is, I think he can."

He caught a slight grin from Henderson. "Sir, yes sir."

Michael's eyes narrowed. "I'd be careful if I were you, McKay. I don't know why you're even on a fucking gate team, but I bet it's because you give good head. Or do you roll over and take it up the ass in exchange for the privilege? Enjoy it while it lasts, since I doubt Sheppard's successor will have the same tastes."

"I was building atom bombs when I was six, Lieutenant. Do you really think your threats scare me?" McKay asked, stepping closer. "What's your real problem with Sheppard? You think you deserve the position he has? You think you're the one with the biggest, baddest balls? Is that it?"

"Are you offering to inspect them, McKay?" Michaels sneered again. "Does it get you all hot and bothered? Sorry, I'm not a fuck-up fag like your pet Colonel."

"I didn't think you were supposed to talk about that kind of thing, Lieutenant."

"You're a civilian, McKay. Or are you afraid of admitting the truth? That you got your post because they couldn't get you far enough away from them on Earth, and you got on Sheppard's team—after he killed his commander—because you're his little woman."

"For your information," McKay said, stepping closer. "I was part of the Atlantis expedition long before Sheppard ever came near it. And I'm Canadian, Lieutenant, so you can take your homophobic ass somewhere else. My sex life is my business. If you have questions about Colonel Sheppard's sex life, I suggest you take it up with him or shut your mouth."

"What the fuck is going on here?" Sheppard strode into the mess—which had gone dead silent during the exchange—with Lorne right behind him. Rodney couldn't remember ever seeing his lover so angry. "I'm getting fucking reports of a brawl brewing in the damn mess hall, so somebody had better have a damn good explanation as to what the fuck you people are doing."

"Why don't you ask Michaels?" Rodney said, gesturing with his thumb toward the Marine who was less than a foot away. "Seems he has an opinion or two he likes to share with others."

John's eyes swept the room, his expression hard. "Michaels, Henderson, I want the two of you in my office. Now. The rest of you are dismissed unless you have something useful to add. And if you don't have somewhere you need to be, Lorne here will find you something." Rodney had never seen the mess clear out that fast.

Rodney folded his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrow at Sheppard as he stayed still.

John's expression didn't change as he caught Rodney's eye. "Doctor McKay, as a civilian, and as one of the participants, I'd like to request that you accompany us as well." He turned on his heel and walked out, the Marines right behind him, leaving Rodney to decide to come or not.

Rolling his eyes, he stepped back to his table to snag his mug of coffee and his now cold toast before following them out the door and to John's official office. As soon as he stepped inside, the door closed behind him.

John was standing with his arms crossed, Henderson and Michaels both at attention. "All right, Michaels. Talk. What the fuck is this all about?"

"Misunderstanding, sir."

"I'll be the judge of that."

Rodney sighed and rolled his eyes, stepping forward, only to be pulled up short by John's voice.

"I'll get to you, Doctor McKay. Right now I'd like to hear from Michaels." His eyes didn't waver from the soldier.

"Just a misunderstanding. Henderson overheard part of a conversation and he decided to make an issue about it without knowing the full story."

John's expression hardened and his tone turned dangerous. "I wasn't asking for excuses Lieutenant. I was ordering you to tell me what was said. Are you refusing to obey a direct order?"

Michaels' face tightened. "It was a private conversation, sir."

"I don't give a shit, soldier. I gave you an order, and this is your last chance to obey it."

"I was discussing sex, sir." Michaels said. "I'd rather not repeat a private conversation I was having with friends."

John's eyes hardened, and his gaze turned to Henderson. "Sergeant, care to shed a little more light as to why I was called out of a meeting with Doctor Weir to break up a pissing contest in the mess hall?"

"It won't happen again, sir."

Sheppard finally turned to Rodney. "Doctor McKay? Do you have anything to add to this singularly uninformative little meeting?"

Rodney shrugged. "Depends. Do you want the same story or the truth?"

"It would be nice if someone would actually tell me the truth when I asked for it. I'm getting a little tired of wading through the bullshit."

"Then you had better invest in hip-boots since that's all your going to get if you continue listening to these two," McKay said, gesturing to the two soldiers with his free hand. "Michaels here was bad-mouthing you and how you got your job. Henderson decided to play kiss-up and stepped in."

One eyebrow went up, and Rodney caught a flash of both weariness and amusement, both gone so fast he was sure no one else had noticed. He turned back to the soldiers. "Gentlemen? Is there anything else you'd like to add?"

Both of them looked suitably subdued and they shook their heads, the stereo mutter of "No, sir," their only response.

"Fine. Since neither of you seems particularly interested in telling me what the fuck possessed you to face off in the mess hall, you've left me with no choice. You're both to report at 0430 tomorrow to Sergeant Ballsen for your new duties. Dismissed." Rodney knew Ballsen was the military liaison with his department for maintaining Altantis' sewage system.

Rodney raised an eyebrow as the two men filed out leaving him alone with John. "Am I dismissed, too?"

John dropped into his chair as soon as the door closed behind his men, the mask of command slipping away. He just looked tired. "Only if you want to be. Fuck, this is getting out of control."

"You're going to fix it."

"Am I?" John ran a hand through his hair before dropping his head into both hands. "Fuck. Knowing both men, I'm sure Henderson probably thought he was stepping in to head off a mutiny—Michaels is one of my problem children. But because the fucker wouldn't speak up, he didn't leave me any choice. By the end of this, I'm not going to be able to give an order to a fucking dog and expect it to be obeyed."

McKay dropped into the guest chair, taking a sip of his coffee. "If Henderson didn't say something to Michaels in the first place, there wouldn't have been an incident." Rodney paused, rolling his eyes. "Okay, maybe there would have been, but it would have been between Michaels and me."

John sighed. "Henderson is probably the only reason Michaels didn't put his fist in your jaw. He's not known for his restraint, and I've seen him in the gym. Even if people jumped in as soon as the first punch was thrown, by the time they pulled him off you would have been in the infirmary."

Rodney shrugged. "And he would have been on his way home because he'd struck a senior officer."

"It's not that easy, Rodney. He's part of a small group with some powerful backers. Its the reason they were given this post in the first place, and even with that, it would be hard to get rid of them completely."

"Given the official complaint I'd file, trust me, he'd be on his way and thankful to get an honorable discharge." Rodney sighed, climbing to his feet. "Need anything else?"

"Why are we doing this to ourselves?" John's question was quiet. "I don't know if I can fix this, Rodney."

"Doing what?" Rodney raised an eyebrow. "Fucking each other? Because we want to and it feels so damn good. I probably have lube with me if you want to test that theory."

That got a faint smile. "I like the idea, but that wasn't what I was talking about. I meant here, Atlantis. This is home, but..."

"We stepped through the gate and took a chance. Just…you'll be fine." Rodney set his mug down on the corner of John's desk as he dug into his pocket, smiling when his fingers touched the lube and the plug he'd put there earlier. He tugged them both out, laying them on John's desk. "Need some stress relief before going back to work?"

John's lips twitched again, and he held out his hand, pulling Rodney into his lap. "You have the best ideas."

"I'm a selfish bastard. I know what I want and present it in such a way as to actually receive it."

"Mmmmm. Lucky me." John pulled Rodney down into a kiss, the taste of the worry and weight of command heavy in his mouth.

When John finally pulled back, Rodney was half-hard and panting. "Did you lock the door?"

"Of course. As soon as they left." John's hand was sliding under Rodney's shirt, seeking and finding the sensitive spots on his chest.

Rodney groaned, his skin still extra sensitive from this morning's activities. "John, wait, please."

His lover didn't stop, but he did lessen the pressure slightly, his pleasure-blown eyes questioning. "Mmm?"

"Just…give me one minute. Okay?"

"'Kay." John leaned his head forward to rest on Rodney's shoulder, his hand stilling, although he didn't pull it free.

Rodney sighed as he tugged John's hand away from his chest and nipple, sliding off of John's lap. He quickly started shedding his clothes before John could protest, settling back down once they were all gone—except the collar. He put John's hand right back where it was before he'd moved away. "Better?"

John's breathing had gotten more labored, and his eyes were wide, appreciative. He used the greater access to his advantage, stroking Rodney's body all over. "Oh yes..."

"Good." Rodney nodded once, moaning as John's fingers hit sensitive spots. "Take what you need," he whispered.

"You. Just need you." Since he was on John's lap, his nipples were at the perfect level for sucking—which was exactly what John did, bending down and latching on to one while he continued to roll the other between his fingers.

Rodney closed his eyes and simply let John play, moaning and whimpering as John teased his body.

John pulled up long enough to rearrange Rodney on his lap so Rodney's legs were draped over the outside of his own. When he spread his legs a little, it forced Rodney's apart. When John resumed teasing a nipple, his hand didn't drift to its mate—this time it went south teasing at the new access the position gave him to Rodney's entrance.

"Yes, John…god yes…feels so good," Rodney whispered as he moaned and panted, head thrown back as he held onto John's arms.

Rumbling approval, John pushed just the tip inside him. He was loose from all the fucking they had been doing, so it felt good but it wasn't enough.

"More, John. Please, more…"

"Eventually." It was whispered into his skin as John moved to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the first.

Rodney moaned, arching into John's touch, his body trembling.

Eventually the finger disappeared, and Rodney watched as John opened his pants, pulling his leaking erection out. He used the lube to coat himself, then positioned Rodney and pulled him down, impaling him with one long thrust.

"Oh god…John…" Rodney moaned. "Gonna…gonna get come on you like this."

Panting hard, John had let his head fall back as Rodney had taken him in. "Can't stop. Rodney..." He swallowed hard. "Napkin in my drawer. Grab it."

"Fuck me over your desk. Easier to clean…"

"Oh god..." He could feel John trembling deep inside. "Mine. Fuck, mine, Rodney..." He abruptly lifted Rodney up, turning him around before slipping back inside.

Rodney groaned as John slid in deeper, as he maneuvered Rodney onto his feet, bending him over his desk as he shoved the papers onto the floor.

"Come when I do." As soon as they were both braced, his lover didn't stop to wait. This wasn't lazy love-making. It was fucking, fast and hard and with an edge of need and desperation to it.

And God. It felt so good to be taken, claimed like this. As John pounded into him, Rodney was barely able to brace himself.

It didn't take long before John was coming, biting down hard on Rodney's shoulder as he did.

And with a strangled moan, Rodney clenched around John's cock and as coming, his cock and shoulder throbbing in sync.

They slumped forward into the desk together, John still inside him. "Nng."

Rodney simply laid against the top of John's desk, breathing heavily, a tremor running through him every few moments.

"Thank you." It was so soft, Rodney almost didn't hear it.

"Anytime."

John's hands swept up his sides, turning into an embrace. After a few moments, he stood pulling out slowly. Before Rodney could move, however, he felt the blunt tip of the plug rubbing against him briefly before being pushed inside.

"Oh…"

"Mmm. Beautiful."

"I’m sorry I didn't think to bring the ring," Rodney said after a minute.

John ran a hand up his back. "S'okay. Next time."

"Surprised you don't have one handy."

"If I had thought about it, I would have put one in my pocket this morning."

"Mmmm. Next time, I guess."

"Definitely." John kissed between his shoulder blades and then tugged him so he was standing. Using the napkin he had mentioned earlier, he cleaned them both up before dressing Rodney again and tucking himself away.

"Better?" Rodney asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes." John's smile was softer, less forced than before. He kissed Rodney again gently. "Thank you."

"Sorry about before and for butting in."

"You didn't do anything wrong. I have a pretty good idea about what Michaels was saying. Hell, Ronon slugged Jameson for something along the same lines." He cleaned up the rest of the evidence of their little tryst, replacing the papers on his desk.

"Honestly, I wasn't really thinking. I just kind of walked into it."

"It's okay. I'm just glad you weren't hurt." He sighed. "And now I suppose I had better go back to Weir's office to finish that meeting."

"And I'm thinking my breakfast is cold."

Chuckling, John kissed him again before gathering up a few papers. "I'll walk with you as far as the mess so you can grab something hot... And you do know you're more than welcome to sit in on the meeting. Not that it's interesting, but you can if you want to."

"No thanks. I actually have an appointment with Carson and Kate shortly."

As they walked, John nodded. "Would you mind telling Kate that I don't think I'll make my appointment with her later? I'm suppose to be going in every few days, but I've got too much on my plate at the moment."

"I'll let her know, but she might not take my word for it." Rodney stopped, realizing he'd forgotten his mug in John's office. "Damn. Go on ahead. I need to go back and grab my mug."

John grinned. "If she needs to track me down, she can. And go ahead. It's unlocked. I'll catch you later."

"Later," Rodney nodded, waving to John as he traced his steps back to Sheppard's office. He waved his hand in front of the panel, stepping in a moment later, spotting his mug right where he'd left it, the slight smell of sex still in the air. Damn. The air recycling system should be adjusted in John's offices if they were going to keep this up. When the door slid shut, Rodney turned, surprised. He hadn't asked the door to close.

Michaels was leaning against the wall, sneering at him. "Well well, the pretty little wifey forget something?"

"What the hell are you doing in here?"

Standing straight, Michaels moved deep into Rodney's personal space, enough that he could smell the almost-eggs on his breath from breakfast. "Just stay out of my way, McKay, or you'll regret it."

Rodney backed up a step. "What are you insinuating, Lieutenant?"

"Just stay out of my way." The soldier sneered again, then turned on his heel and walked out.

Letting out the breath he'd been holding, Rodney finally picked up his empty mug and slowly left John's office, heading for the mess to get more coffee before his appointment, the encounter with Michaels running over and over in his head.

By the time he got to the infirmary, he'd examined it from every angle and more or less dismissed it. The Marine was a buffoon, but he wasn't stupid. At least not too stupid. He wouldn't do anything. Threaten yes. Do? No.

When he arrived at the infirmary, Carson waved him into an exam area, and Rodney knew the drill. He pulled off his shirt and hopped up on the bed to wait. When the doctor came in, he froze, his eyes going to Rodney's shoulder. "What the bloody hell is that?"

"What is what?" Rodney asked, craning around to try to see what Carson was looking at.

Beckett moved to his side, gingerly touching Rodney's shoulder. "It looks like someone tried to take a chunk out of you. What the bloody hell happened?"

"Okay…ow. That hurts when you poke at it," Rodney said, squirming away even as he felt his cheeks flush. "It's nothing."

Carson's face darkened, and his accent got thicker. "How did you get it, Rodney?"

Dropping his head forward, Rodney took a deep breath trying not to sigh. "John bit down when he came. It's nothing."

"He bit you."

"Oh for god's sake, Carson, get over it! He's not abusing me or doing anything to me I don't want. Just leave it alone."

With another dark look, Beckett went about finishing the exam in silence. When it was over, he glanced at Rodney's shoulder again, shaking his head slowly. Rodney didn't like that expression.

"Would you stop that?" Rodney snapped, finally having enough. "I've been walking around on eggshells with you for a week now. You were the one who pushed us together and supposedly understood our relationship. What's your problem?"

Carson just shook his head. "No relationship should leave that many bruises on a body. I'm a doctor, Rodney, and his temper has'na been the calmest lately. You can't deny he's had a rough time, and has been quicker to anger. I canna rule out that you're taking the brunt of that, and are too loyal—or afraid—to say anything."

"Do you actually think I'd keep quiet if I thought he was going to hurt me or do something I didn't want?"

Carson sighed. "I don't know, Rodney. You hav'na been entirely yourself lately either. And while some of that was post-traumatic stress, I dinna know anymore how much is that, and how much is...other things."

"Other things?" Rodney folded his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at the Scot.

Carson just shook his head. "You have another appointment to keep. I won't hold you up."

"So that's it? You don't trust John and you think I'm lying to protect him." Rodney slid off the bed.

"I don'na know what to think right now. I just know that neither of you is behaving normally, and you've got some extensive and deep bruises that no ordinary person should want to do to another."

"Since we're obviously not going to agree on this, do I have to come back again or am I finally free of your clutches?"

Carson sighed again. "Off with you. I'd like to see you again in a few days, but other than the bruising, you're healthy."

Rodney tugged on his shirt, Carson's eyes settling on his neck and the small bit of metal that peeked out above the fabric. He shook his head, heading out of the exam area, but pausing before he got too far. He turned, looking back at Carson. His voice was quiet, tired. "You used to trust me, trust John. I know things happen that change things, but I didn't think you'd be so quick to turn on us. I just hope that when you finally decide we're okay again that it's not too late."

Carson sighed softly. "Its not that I dinna trust you, Rodney. I just worry about you. In my career, bruising and the like means an injury, and people don't give each other injuries for pleasure. Bear with me lad. I am trying, but I canna help my natural reaction at seeing something like that."

"Maybe if you tried understanding it instead of condemning it immediately, that might help."

"I am, believe it or not. I...Kate gave me a few books she had, but... I must admit, I just dinna understand how you can allow it, or how he can want to hurt you like that."

"It's not about hurting me, Carson. And he doesn't do it to show his power or control. It's…it's just one small part of the overall relationship." Rodney shrugged. "And while books will give you some…inkling of what goes on, you won't really understand it until you talk to John. And from what I've seen that's something you're not really ready to do."

Carson gave him an apologetic look. "I'll...try. It's all I can promise right now. He does have an appointment with both me and Kate today, so I'll give it another go at trying to understand. I still think you're good for each other, I just...worry about you. You're my friend, and I dinna want to see you hurt."

"Trust me when I say that I wouldn't stay with anyone determined to hurt me physically."

"I'll try." Carson patted him on the arm. "Now off with you before Kate has both our heads for making you late."

Rodney ducked his head. "Talk to John. His answers might surprise you. But take the time to actually listen to him."

"I will. I promise. Now that I'm not angry, maybe I can pay a little more attention to his answers."

He looked at the Scot for a long moment before nodding again and heading on his way. His appointment with Kate was quick and relatively painless. He was down to one session a week unless something happened. He was to stay on the meds though, but the dosage was low enough that she was going to let him go back to work—at least light duty.

Leaving her office a small smile, Rodney headed directly for the labs. He had some catching up to do.

***

It was the end of his shift when John Sheppard finally showed up at Carson's office door looking a little weary and worn. "Ah, Colonel. You remembered you had a scheduled appointment I see."

Moving inside, John dropped into the guest chair. "Sorry. I had asked Rodney to make my excuses, but after both Hyland and Heightmeyer called me at least five times each, I gave in. They wouldn't let me reschedule."

"There's a reason we make appointments, Colonel."

John sighed. "Right, sorry. My bad. Where do you want me?"

"Actually, right now, you're fine where you are," Carson said, leaning back in his chair. This was the first time he'd actually talked to John in a week or more. His instincts told him that there was something wrong between him and Rodney, but he was willing to give it one last try to put that particular demon to rest. "Do you have a few minutes?"

John tilted his head a bit, and gave Carson an unreadable look. "Sure, Doctor."

Carson sighed, running his hand over his face. "I've been doing some…reading over the past week and while it has explained a few things I'd like to discuss some of it with you."

One eyebrow went up, but Sheppard leaned back, looking both tense and loose in the way only he seemed to be able to manage. "All right. If it will make you stop looking at me like I'm two steps away from the shit on the bottom of your shoe, you can ask questions all night."

"I saw the…mark…bite mark on Rodney's shoulder this morning. What I don'na understand is how you tell me you care about him, love him even, and yet continue to injure him. You nearly broke the skin and there's not telling what would have happened if it had become infected…" Carson took a breath. "I don'na see how injuring your partner can be part of a healthy relationship."

John just looked at him for a few minutes, obviously thinking. "I have a better idea. Rather than explain it, why don't I just demonstrate, assuming Rodney doesn't mind, that is."

"Demonstrate…I don'na think that is such a good idea," Carson said, his eyes widening as he shook his head.

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, I wasn't planning to touch you. Not only would Rodney murder me in my sleep if I marked someone else, you wouldn't really get anything out of it since you don't really desire me. I meant I'll call Rodney, and you can see for yourself that I don't hurt him when I mark him."

"Let me get this straight. You want me to watch you and Rodney havin' sex."

This time both eyebrows went up. "Well, I wasn't going to take it that far, but if you want to stay and watch, and he's okay with it, sure. I know he's told you sex for an audience is a kink of mine."

Carson shook his head and glanced away, feeling his cheeks turning bright red. "So apparently that wasn't the offer," he muttered.

The chuckle he got was more than a little dirty. "Nono, I like your idea better. And this way we can avoid the weeks of dark looks when Rodney shows up with weird marks." John stood and raised an eyebrow. "Coming?"

"Ah…no. You canna be serious. I just wanted to talk to you about what you did, not see it in person. What's wrong with talking?"

"I've talked to you about this before, and I know you've read up. And you still don't get it. Come on, Carson." He took on a note of command that had Beckett standing before he realized what he was doing.

"No, Colonel. I’m not just going to follow you. This isn't something you can just drop on someone and expect them to just…obey."

With a jaunty grin, Sheppard tapped his radio. "McKay, this is Sheppard. I need you in the infirmary to help me explain something to Beckett. Can you be down here in five minutes?"

It took a moment for Rodney to respond and John's face lit up. Damn.

"He's on his way!" John had moved so he was standing in the doorway, effectively blocking the exit. His expression turned a little less...feral. "Beckett—Carson—I'm not going to take this any farther right now than marking him. I need you to understand. You're our friend, and...I hate that you think this about me. The rest...well, the offer is out there, if you ever change your mind."

Carson sat back down and buried his head in his hands as he waited for Rodney to arrive, the scientist making quite the entrance—yelling at someone on his radio.

"What do you mean you don't understand? No is a two-letter word that even Barbarians and one-year-olds understand. I said no. End of story."

John's lips twitched up, and he waited for Rodney to yell a few more things and then sign off before he reached over and pulled the radio away. "Hi there. Enjoying your first day back in the labs?"

"I’m surprised they didn't blow us up," Rodney grumbled and rolled his eyes. "And yes, I'm enjoying working. What did you want?"

"I need to demonstrate to Carson that the bruises don't come from me beating you, and that you like it when I do it. I'm going to mark you while he watches. He's not ready to watch us have sex though. Yet. I'm working on him."

John's words stopped Rodney dead in his tracks. "Excuse me?"

The door had closed, and Carson heard the snick of the lock. He was sure his own eyes were wide as John slipped a hand under Rodney's shirt. "I'm going to mark you, and he's going to watch you moan and squirm for me, make those sexy noises. Then he's going to stop accusing me of spousal abuse."

"You want to make out in front of Carson?"

"Mmmm hmmm." John was kissing his way down Rodney's throat, and, to Carson's surprise, McKay had tilted his head, despite his protests.

"Damnit, John. I have to go back to the lab and I can't do it with a hard-on," Rodney complained, his words quickly turning to a moan of pleasure as John's tongue touched his skin.

Was it getting hot in here?

"I'll take care of you, don't worry." Sheppard had backed Rodney into the wall, and pushed his shirt up. "I'll blow you afterwards, whether he's watching or not. You can go back to the labs all loose and relaxed."

Rodney's eyes flew open at that. "No, John. Please."

"Mmmmm." Sheppard went back to kissing Rodney's neck. "Okay. You can go back hard and leaking for me then, and spend the rest of what's left of the day thinking about how fantastic it will feel tonight when I fuck you."

Rodney groaned. "That's not what I meant and you know it. Making out is one thing, sex is something else entirely and I won't do that in front of Carson."

John nodded, letting Rodney tug John's head up, hands on either side of the soldier's face. He pressed his lips to John's in a kiss that quickly turned wet and dirty.

John moved in closer, and Carson felt himself getting a little hard when John moved one leg between Rodney's, and the scientist moaned. When John broke the kiss, he trailed his lips down Rodney's body, to the opposite side of where the bruise was, pulling aside fabric.

Rodney's eyes were closed, his hands clutching at John's sides, fingers searching for skin. "Oh god. Yes, John. Please."

He heard Sheppard make a noise that could only be called a purr—who knew the man was capable of that?—then he started to kiss and bite at a bit of exposed skin, making Rodney squirm and thrust his hips against John's leg.

Rodney just tilted his head, giving John access to his neck and the skin below the necklace around his throat. He was moaning quietly, constantly, hands resting on John's ass. Every now and then a quiet "Oh god" or "John" or "More, need more," spilled out of Rodney's mouth.

When Sheppard lifted his head, Carson saw the flash of red and purple—another bruise—before they were kissing again, wet and dirty and it took all his willpower not to touch himself.

Rodney whimpered when John pulled away, but stilled immediately when John shushed him, whispering something into his ear before turning to Carson.

His eyes dropped to the bulge in Carson's pants, and he grinned. "I'm going to take care of Rodney now, so he can go back to work. Do you mind letting us use your office for a few minutes? He isn't up for an audience. Yet. And I trust I've proven that this is both consensual and erotic?"

"I…ah…yes…and…of course," Carson said, managing to get to his feet and stumble toward the door. The small infirmary bathroom wasn't far. He could go there and take care of his own problem.

"Thanks." John was still grinning, unrepentantly. "When you go jerk off, use one finger to push inside yourself. Trust me, even if you aren't into men, it will feel really, really good."

Carson felt his cheeks flush as he opened the door, shaking his head as he hurried out of his office as best as he could, John's chuckle following him out. Damn him.

***

John kicked his feet out, stretching as much as possible in the guest seat of Elizabeth’s office. Things were starting to look up. Carson had stopped looking at him like he had a second head since the little demonstration last week, Rodney was almost back to himself, with only a few needy backslides when they were alone, and the obstacle training course was tomorrow.

He really hoped that took care of the last big issue, since the morale problems were escalating. Those who had served under him that first year were drawing up lines against the new arrivals, with few exceptions. Atlantis was going to fall apart if they didn’t get this fixed soon.

He refocused on Elizabeth as she walked in. “So, we get a response to Jameson’s charges in this data burst?” He was concerned the SGC would recall him before he had a chance to fix this, and put someone else—Caldwell probably—in place to clean up John’s mess.

Elizabeth shook her head slowly. "Nothing. I was actually surprised. I figured we'd have something by now."

John ran a hand through his hair. "When is the Daedalus due back? Maybe they sent the response with Caldwell."

"In a few days." Her lips thinned as she pressed them together, her fingers tapping against the side of her PDA. "We're actually getting a few new members of the science department who couldn't come when we left."

"Oh?" That wasn't something Elizabeth would normally have that reaction to—or feel the need to tell him. "That's a bad thing?"

"A few of the people Rodney refused to take with us eight weeks ago. I wonder if he's checked his mail since the data burst this morning." She glanced up with a wry smile. "Should make for interesting fireworks when they beam in."

He sat up. "Wait, they're sending us people the head of science already rejected? Why?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I have no idea. Sometimes I swear they're just trying to send us the troublemakers…not that you are one of those…" she said, amending her comment quickly. "I remember Rodney's list so that's the only reason I picked up on it now."

His lips twitched. "Well, there's nothing we can do about it now. If they're on their way already, we have to take them in, at least temporarily. You, McKay, and Beckett all have a bit more authority over which personnel come or go, so if they cause problems, we can always send them home."

"Maybe. We do need scientists. Rodney didn't take a full delegation the last time and we've already lost a few." She sighed. "When did I become a governor instead of a diplomat?

"When you agreed to run Atlantis." He smiled. "And you're doing a damn fine job, so stop worrying."

"We'll see. You're not the only one with a lot to lose if things change here."

He sighed. He knew if someone else was put in charge of the military, that Elizabeth's power would slowly be undermined. It just made the burden he was carrying feel that much heavier. "Everything is set for tomorrow?"

She nodded, putting her PDA on the desk. "As far as I can tell. There will be an anonymous drawing in the morning to see which teams go up against each other. Otherwise…things look good."

"Good. It should be an interesting exercise. Other than mine and Lorne's, how many teams are participating? Who signed up?"

"You'll find out in the morning, John," Elizabeth said, raising an eyebrow. "We had to turn people down, so don't worry about participation. We have it."

"And they are all out to try and prove they can kick my ass." He sighed, relaxing back into his chair. "If this doesn't work..."

"Then we'll figure out something else." She glanced down for a moment and John knew something else was coming. "Have Michaels and Henderson been behaving themselves since that last incident in the mess?"

His body tensed up. "Why?"

"I’m asking for an update."

He nodded slowly, wary. "As far as I've heard. Since they were giving me a load of shit, I sent them down to play in the real stuff for a few days. In all honesty, Henderson was doing what he thought was right—trying to put a stop to what amounted to talks of mutiny from what I can gather. But since he wouldn't come out and tell me that, I had no choice but to punish him along with Michaels."

Weir nodded. "I'm not questioning your decision, John. I thought it was appropriate given your report on the incident. I'm just a little surprised that Rodney got in the middle of it."

He nodded. "So am I quite frankly, but at the same time—not so much. Lorne did some asking around, and I got a bit more info out of McKay afterwards. It seems Michaels was saying things along the same lines as what put Jameson in the infirmary."

"And he came pretty close to outing the two of you."

"I know." John shook his head. "Michaels doesn't have any intel, but it's pretty standard in the military to question someone's sexuality if you're trying to undermine them. Not very creative, but not much I can do about it. I've been called worse names than 'fag' in my career, and I'm sure I'll be called worse still before it's over."

Elizabeth pursed her lips again before she finally nodded. "I should let you go and get rested up for tomorrow's event. I heard that Carson's cleared everyone who's participating."

He stood, stretching again. "Yeah, it'll be nice to get out and play again. I miss fieldwork. Desk jobs suck."

"They all have their pros and cons, John. Remember that."

He grinned at her. "I'm just a fighter pilot. I wasn't built for sitting at a desk doing paperwork all day."

"Get some rest," she said, already turning back to her computer and PDA, her eyes and attention on the data flowing across the screen.

He gave her a sloppy salute, and then headed out. He figured he would swing by the mess for a quick dinner. He was surprised to realize he was hungry.

As soon as John stepped into the mess the sounds and smells surrounded him and his stomach growled. He spotted Rodney in the far corner—eating and working. John rolled his eyes. That wasn't quite what he had in mind, but at least Rodney was taking John seriously when it came to meals.

He grabbed his own meal and headed back, plunking down across from his lover. "Hey, there."

Rodney glanced up briefly before returning to his tablet. "Hey. One minute." He read for a few more seconds before scribbling across the screen with the pen—how the computer knew what to make of Rodney's writing was still a mystery. A quick skim and nod and Rodney saved what he was working on, putting it to the side of his tray, digging back into his half-eaten dinner. "Sorry. I'm still trying to get caught up."

"Understandable. I'm still buried in mountains of paperwork myself." Smiling, John absently pushed the extra cupcake he had grabbed onto Rodney's tray. "You ready for tomorrow?"

Rodney answered around a mouthful of his food. "No. But I don't have much choice, do I?"

"Nope. But you'll do fine."

"Maybe." Rodney shrugged, swallowing even as another forkful was headed to his mouth. "Sure we can't back out?"

"Elizabeth was turning teams away apparently, and I'm willing to bet ninety percent of them just wanted a chance at me. So no, we can't back out. I have something to prove, Rodney."

"Maybe." He chewed his next bite before digging into what was left of his salad.

"And when we kick all their asses, we'll have bragging rights for the year."

"And you have nothing to prove. You do know that, right? Just because your men are idiots doesn't mean you have to play these Alpha male games all the time."

John picked at his food for a minute before responding. "I wish it was that easy. If I want to regain control of the base—and keep it—I have to prove I can. This is the only way to do it without hurting anyone."

"It's just another version of a pissing contest," Rodney muttered, rolling his eyes as he finally dropped his fork and headed for the cupcake John had brought him.

"Agreed, and I hate that I have to do it. But they're Marines, and right now, if I want their respect, I have to prove I can play by their rules."

"And you're going to have to do this again when you get new recruits."

"Hopefully not. Right now, the problem is that we got a lot of new people who have no idea. Once there's a regular rotation, it won't be such a problem. And the rumors that I know what I'm doing will start to outweigh the ones that I don't, as the people who's respect I earn now go back to Earth and talk."

Rodney shrugged, his gaze sliding between John, the rest of the mess, and his food. "I guess. Look. I need to finish up some things in the lab before I head in for the night." He rose, picking up the cupcake and his tablet.

John hooked his ankle around Rodney's for a brief second. "Sure. Just don't work too late." They both knew it was an order, and not an idle comment. He grinned to himself at the faint tremor that no one who wasn't watching Rodney closely would have caught.

"I know. I won't be late." Rodney offered John a small smile before heading out. Less than a minute later, Ronon and Teyla settled in, shoving the remains of Rodney's dinner to the side to make room.

"Doctor McKay was finished with dinner?" Teyla asked as he sat down across from John in the seat that Rodney's had just vacated. "We had been hoping to have dinner as a team before the training tomorrow."

John nodded. "Yeah, he had a few things he needed to wrap up in the labs. I do want us to all have breakfast in the morning before we head over though, so I'm glad I caught you guys."

"He's actually going to do it?" Ronon barely paused in his eating to ask.

John nodded, still picking at his meal. He didn't have much appetite now, thinking about tomorrow. "Yes, he is. Why wouldn't he?"

Ronon shrugged. "Didn't think he would if I was gonna be there."

John rolled his eyes. "You're both part of my team, so yes, you will both be there. And we will kick ass. I told him to talk to you, I take it that means he hasn't yet."

"Sees me and goes the other way."

John resisted the urge to bang his head on the table. "He gets off in an hour. Will the two of you meet me in my quarters about a half-hour after that? I think we need to have a little team meeting."

Ronon looked like he was going to argue, but Teyla stepped in. "We will be there."

"Good." He started planning in his head. He really wasn't fit to command if he couldn't even get his own team to talk to each other. He pushed something that looked like peas around on his plate, lost in thought for a moment.

"You are worried." It wasn't a question. Why did Teyla have to be so damn all-knowing?

He debated denying it, but she would just get that pinched look and he didn't need her irritated at him tomorrow. Not to mention he was probably going to need her as an ally to fix this thing between Rodney and Ronon. "We have to win tomorrow. If I'm going to regain control of the base, and keep my position here... we can't just win, we have to kick ass."

"And why would we wish to…kick ass?"

He chuckled. "Sorry, I keep forgetting you guys aren't from Earth and don't speak the slang. It means we don't just come in ahead of everyone else. We beat them by such a wide margin, there isn't any doubt that we're a whole hell of a lot better than any other team."

Teyla glanced at Ronon before turning back to John, her eyebrow on the rise. "And this is…important to you?"

"It is. You've both heard the talk. I'm hoping kicking ass will set some of that to rest. Right now a lot of the new personnel are judging me by my old reputation. This will give them something else to think about. I hope."

Teyla nodded, her face determined, serious. "Then it is very simple. We shall…kick ass."

His lips quirked. "That's the plan. I'll brief you guys on some of the rest of what's at stake tonight. The mess isn't the best place to talk."

Teyla inclined her head to John. Ronon kept eating. "We shall be there."

He dropped his fork, resigned that he just wasn't going to eat. "I've got a few things I need to take care of myself, so I'll see you both in my quarters in an hour and a half."

Ronon waved his hand toward John—at least he was listening—and Teyla nodded sagely. Sometimes, he was surprised he wasn't insane after all his encounters with aliens. Or, maybe he was and that was the real problem.

Shaking his head, John made his way back to his office. He signed off on a few reports and set things up to run without him tomorrow. Stretching, he glanced down at his watch, noting that Rodney would be off soon.

Shutting down, he made his way to his quarters, glad he had given himself a half-hour to warn his lover. While simple acceptance would be nice, John wasn’t going to hold his breath. He got there a few minutes before Rodney, taking the opportunity to hide some of the more obvious paraphernalia. He looked up as Rodney walked in, right on time. “Hey there.”

"Hey," Rodney said, still distracted by the PDA in his hands, moving to the desk instead of toward John.

Rolling his eyes, John moved to stand behind Rodney, wrapping his arms around his lover's waist, and resting his head on his shoulder. "Whatcha doing?"

"Trying to figure out what the hell Simpson is trying to ask for this time." He huffed, tossing down the device a moment later, leaning back into John's embrace. "What can't she just make a list? Bullet points would be nice."

Chuckling, John kissed along Rodney's neck. "You could make it a new department requirement."

"It took some of them a year to remember to email me their requests instead of sending them to the science department message board." He sighed again. "I’m guessing there's no sex tonight."

John grinned. "Maybe. It's not really a mission, per se, so the regular rules don't apply. However, Teyla and Ronon will be here in about a half-hour so I can brief everyone before we go into this."

Rodney stiffened slightly. "Briefing? What briefing? You didn't mention this before."

"It was a spur of the moment thing. We haven't gotten together as a team in a while, and I don't know what everyone knows or doesn't know about tomorrow. It will be faster and easier to just have a team meeting." John tightened his arms a bit, pulling Rodney closer to his body.

"I should know about these things in advance."

"I'm sorry. I just decided to do it at dinner, right after you had left. And I did tell them to come by a half-hour after I knew you would be here, so I could warn you."

"That's not much of a warning. And why do we need a team meeting anyway? Teyla will nod at everything you say. Ronon will grunt at you. I'll roll my eyes. There. One meeting."

"Because you still haven't talked to Ronon like you promised you would. Because Ronon and Teyla—and you—don't really understand what's at stake tomorrow I don't think. I need us to work as a cohesive team, and right now we can't do that."

"I promised no such thing and I still want nothing to do with that barbarian."

Pushing his nose into Rodney's neck, John let the familiar scent calm him. "Please. I know I can't make you like him, but I need you to try."

Rodney's voice hardened, taking on the tone he used when he was yelling at his scientists. "What part of 'I want nothing to do with him' do you not understand?"

John closed his eyes briefly. "If we lose tomorrow—hell if we win by just a thin margin—my days on Atlantis are numbered. Even if I'm allowed to stay, which is questionable, it won't be as the military commander."

"You'll be fine."

"No, Rodney. That's part of why I called this meeting. I don't want to go over it more than once." He sighed.

"If you continue to doubt yourself, of course you'll screw up. Look, I have to finish some stuff in the lab. Just let me know what happens." Rodney went to climb out of John's embrace but Sheppard wasn't letting go.

"No. You're staying, and you're going to make an effort to get along, at least for the meeting. Afterwards we can keep arguing about it if you really want to."

"There's no good reason to stay anywhere near that behemoth."

"Yes there is. I asked you to. That's the reason. Period."

"John—"

He squeezed his lover slightly as the door chimed on cue. "For me, Rodney. And as an added incentive, if you're good, I'll think up something really good to do to you later." Pulling back, John triggered the door to open.

Teyla and Ronon stepped into the room a moment later, John catching sight of Rodney standing still, anger on his face, his hands crossed over his chest.

Sighing, John sat down on the bed, telling the door to lock until he told it otherwise. At least he could make sure no one walked out on him. "All right, since I don't know how much you guys know about what's been going on or why we're having this little training run in the first place, let's start there."

Over the next half-hour, he explained the morale problem, the complaints, how they had come up with the solution and, finally, why it was so important for them to do well tomorrow. “So that’s about it. I’m on thin ice with the SGC right now. They’re looking for a reason to recall me, and probably banish me to the most remote part of Earth they can come up with. I have to regain control of the base now if I have any hope of staying here—and I’m not ready to abandon Atlantis yet.”

"And we are not ready for you to leave us," Teyla said. "We shall do what it takes to win, Colonel Sheppard."

He smiled a bit tiredly. "Thanks, Teyla. Atlantis is my home, and I'm not giving it up without a fight. But I do have to prove to my commanders that I'm capable of being in control of a remote base with an expanded military presence."

"So is this your pep talk? Shut up and follow my orders?" Rodney huffed, getting up from the bed where he'd been sitting.

John shook his head. "No, that was a briefing on why we're doing this. I haven't gotten to the pep talk part yet. Before I can do that, I need to fix this rift in the team."

Rodney huffed, his back to the group as he stared out the window.

Looking over at Ronon, John raised an eyebrow, silently ordering him to apologize.

"I already told him I was sorry."

"Ronon... Look, I need the two of you to at least be capable of being the same room together. Rodney, Ronon is sorry he took you literally and it won't happen again."

"Fine. He's sorry. We're both in the same room. Was that all?" Rodney hadn't turned around. John tried not to sigh, but enough was enough.

Looking over at Teyla, John wondered if their resident diplomat had any ideas—he was out of them.

"You do not trust him." Teyla's words were quiet, directed at Rodney. He didn't respond right away, but eventually the weight of her stare made him turn.

"No. I don't. I have no reason to."

"And you have a reason not to?"

"He took you and Sheppard hostage and damn well can't listen to a simple request."

"He did not harm us, and aided us in rescuing you when Aiden proved to be...unstable. As for the incident that caused this situation... I must admit, your people use irony and sarcasm far more than Ronon or myself are used to. He did not understand then that what you said was not what you meant. He knows now, and feels badly that he has caused this rift, do you not, Ronon?"

"Yeah."

John held back his sigh as soon as he watched Rodney face tighten again. "Look. We're never going to be friends or chums or best buddies. Can we just be done?"

John knew if they went into the course tomorrow with things like this, they wouldn't pull off what he needed them to. His temper was starting to bubble up, and he knew if he said anything now, he would lose it.

"You need to be able to trust Ronon if we are to win this training session." Teyla was trying to be reasonable, diplomatic. Why did Rodney insist on being so stubborn?

"Well, then it looks like we're at an impasse because I can't just trust him because you say so. Trust is earned and he has a long way to go before I'll trust him."

Standing, John paced to the other side of the room. "I'm not asking you to trust him because I say so. I'm asking you to stop holding a damn grudge and give him a chance. Ronon Dex is part of our team. I don't regret the decision, and I won't retract it, any more than I would ask you or Teyla to leave the team."

"So I'll make it easier for you," Rodney said, turning to face John. "I quit."

"No."

Rodney laughed bitterly, harshly. "No?"

"No. I won't accept your resignation. You're a member of my team, and nothing has happened to change that."

"I've changed my mind and I don't report to you."

John had to fight the urge to treat Rodney as his bottom. This wasn't the place for it, and he knew it would only backfire on him if he tried. "I need you on my team, Rodney. We'd be dead several times over without you, and I need you tomorrow, functioning as a full member of the group, if I have a chance in hell of retaining command."

Rodney jaw set in an angry line. "Fine. I'll do your song and dance tomorrow, but after that…him or me, Colonel. I'll let you decide."

John wanted to scream, and fortunately, Teyla stepped in again, stopping him from saying anything he would regret.

"Deciding anything this important should not be done in the heat of anger." She turned to Rodney. "You will accompany us tomorrow?"

"Yes. I said I would."

She nodded, turning to Ronon. "And you?"

"Already told you I would."

She nodded again. "Let us work with what we have then, and build upon it."

John nodded curtly, unlocking the door. "Fine, thank you. And on that note, everyone get some sleep. I'll see you in the mess in the morning before we take a jumper to the mainland."

Ronon stood, striding to the door with Teyla following behind. Rodney would have been a few steps behind if John hadn't caught him.

He waited for the door to close again. "Rodney..."

"I was going to my quarters to get some sleep."

Sighing, John moved a little closer, but didn't try to push his lover. "You haven't slept in your room in weeks. Stay. Please."

"I am serious, you know. I will quit if you force the issue."

"I know you are, and I don't want to talk any more about this tonight. I honestly don't know how to respond to it right now."

"You were the one who brought it up."

"I wasn't expecting you to issue an ultimatum, and right now I need to focus on tomorrow before I can deal with that. I might not be here to make that decision in a week, so it will be moot at that point." John moved a little closer, dragging his hand up Rodney's arm, but not holding him, forcing it.

"So focus on tomorrow. I'm not stopping you."

He slipped the tips of his fingers under the edge of Rodney's sleeve. "Going to bed angry isn't good for either of us."

"Which is why it might help you concentrate if I wasn't here."

"You know we both sleep better and more deeply together. I don't want to fight with you, Rodney. That wasn't my intention tonight. I just wanted us to be a team." John closed the rest of the distance between them, brushing his lips across Rodney's jaw.

"Three is enough for a team."

"No, it isn't. It's a temporary measure. Too many times we need to be in more than one place, and I don't like it that someone has to go without a partner to watch their back. Because I worry about you, more often than not it means Teyla is on her own, and that's bad leadership on my part." He relaxed a little when Rodney didn't pull back or push him away.

"Then maybe I shouldn't be on the team." Rodney voice was losing some of its anger, but his lover's body was still tense.

"That's not an option. I knew I wanted you on my team even before I fell in love with you. You're the best at what you do, and I want the best on my team, watching my back. I don't want another scientist. I want you."

Rodney sighed. "I thought we weren't talking about this."

Dragging his lips along Rodney's jaw again, John used his tongue to trace the edge of his lover's ear. "I can think of better ways to relax us so we can get a good night of sleep."

Rodney shifted in John's arms, squirming under his touch. "And I thought sex was off-limits before a mission."

"We aren't going on a mission. While we need to win, losing just means losing my job, not my life." He snaked a hand under his lover's shirt, rubbing one of the perky nipples he found there.

"Same difference," Rodney panted, groaning as he arched his back slightly, pressing into John's touch.

"Maybe. But right now, I need to touch you, taste you. The reason I don't allow sex before missions is because I don't want either of us hurt. We can't get hurt tomorrow."

"Yes, we can. Just because it's our people, they can still hurt us." Rodney's hands finally moved, resting on John's hips.

"Accidents are always a possibility, yes. But they won't be firing live ammunition, and they won't be actually trying to kill us." John pulled back long enough to get rid of Rodney's shirt, then ran his hands, fingers spread wide, through his lover's chest hair.

Rodney sighed again, some of the tension leaving his body. "Can we just not talk about this anymore?"

"Mmmmm." John mouthed his way down Rodney's neck, bending so he could tease the little nubs peeking through the hair with his tongue.

"Oh…" Rodney moaned, his body giving John the shudder he was looking for just before he relaxed his muscles again, becoming much more pliant in John's arms. That's what he was looking for.

Humming softly, John kept his teeth out of it, just sucking and licking first one nipple, then the other, until they were both swollen and glistening.

Rodney was trembling and moaning, clutching onto John with his hands as if letting go would send him to the floor in a puddle of sensation.

Kissing his way south, John kneeled and looked up through his eyelashes to see Rodney's reaction as he used his teeth to work open the buttons on his BDUs.

His lover's eyes were wide and nearly all pupil as his fingers dug into John's shoulders.

With a dirty chuckle, John ran his tongue along the seam of the patch of boxers he had just exposed.

Rodney groaned, legs threatening to buckle.

John ran his hands up the insides of Rodney's thighs, pushing his legs a little further apart. The he peeled the BDUs further apart, pulling Rodney out through the slit in the boxers. John kissed the already-leaking tip.

This time Rodney's knees did buckle and if John hadn't steadied him, McKay would have been on the floor.

"I think maybe it's time we took this to the bed." Despite his words, John couldn't help licking Rodney's dick like a dirty lollipop a few times

"Oh god…" Rodney moaned, sounding completely debauched, allowing John to lead him to bed and settle him onto his back, legs spread wide.

John took the opportunity to strip Rodney out of the rest of his clothes. His lover was wearing a cock ring already, although no plug today. It was the vibrating ring, so John turned it on with a quick thought.

A strangled moan erupted from Rodney and John couldn't help but chuckle. That was a sound he loved hearing.

"Since we have the training run tomorrow, I'm not going to tie you up. However, put your hands above your head and spread your legs as wide as you can get them. Don't move from that position until you're told to."

It took nearly a minute for Rodney to obey and for a brief second John thought that he wasn't going to. Rodney finally lifted his hands above his head, gripping the sheets as he spread his legs, heels on the very edge of the bed.

John purred, moving to run his hands up his lover's body. "Good. Very, very good." He found a nipple and started to play with it.

Rodney groaned, squirming and shifting on the bed. He bit down on his lip, obviously making an effort to stay as still as possible for John.

John took pity on him stretching out alongside his lover to capture his mouth as he continued to play.

The kiss was hot and wet, tongue and teeth until Rodney opened up, moaning as John explored his mouth while his fingers continued to "do the walking" across Rodney's nipples.

Breaking the kiss, John regarded the man he had fallen so hopelessly for. His lips were swollen, eyes blown wide, spread out and squirming. God he was beautiful. "I'm going to give you a choice tonight. Do you want a blowjob, and you can come whenever you want, or do you want me to fuck you, and you don't come until I do?"

Rodney groaned, panting with need and desire. "No fair."

Grinning, John tweaked a nipple. "Since I'm feeling kinda generous, I'll use one of the vibrators if you go the blowjob route. Not as good as being fucked, but you still get to come a lot faster that way. But slow and steadily being driven out of your mind is a good look, so don't be too hasty in the decision."

Gasping, Rodney's eyes slid shut, his little puffs of air and moans making John want to keep teasing him as long as possible. And Rodney didn't disappoint. "Fuck…fuck me…please."

John kissed him breathless again. "Good boy. So very good, Rodney..." John realized he hadn't taken the time to kiss every inch of Rodney's body in a while, so he set about doing just that.

His lips and hands trailed over his lover's body, trying to sensitize every patch of skin. Rodney was continuously shifting on the bed, moaning quietly, getting lost in the sensations.

Between kisses, John continued to whisper to Rodney how good he was, how perfect, beautiful, so fucking beautiful, he was.

It was still amazing to see him like this—so open, so trusting, so submissive—when he just let go and let John care for everything.

John was glad he had grabbed the lube earlier, coating a single finger now to push inside Rodney when he finished kissing him into insensibility. They had enough sex that technically his lover didn't need to be stretched this carefully anymore, but John still loved to take his time.

Rodney groaned loudly, grinding down a little onto John's hand, his finger sliding in a little further. And it was because of Rodney's reaction—every time John fingered him or fucked him—that made him want to take his time.

He had never had a lover who was so responsive, whose body John could play like this. He got a little lost in his own headspace for a while, just enjoying the way it felt to know he was making Rodney feel this good.

It was Rodney's desperate whimper that finally brought him back to reality a bit, a dirty smile on his face as he saw the wrecked expression on Rodney's face.

He quickly slicked himself up and lined himself up, moving Rodney's legs so he'd be positioned right and pushed in with one fluid motion.

Rodney groaned loudly, his back arching slightly before he settled again, panting.

"Soon. You can come soon. I'm taking the ring off now, but don't come yet. Wait until you feel me filling you, claiming you."

Rodney nodded, head bobbing up and down briefly as he clutched the sheets, pulling them from where they were tucked under the mattress.

Chuckling a bit breathlessly, John pulled the ring free, giving his lover a moment to adjust to the lack of vibrations before he began to move, dragging across Rodney's sweet spot on every thrust.

"Oh!" Rodney exclaimed on the first thrust before dropping entirely to sounds and vowels, taking everything John was giving him and loving every second of it.

John felt his control starting to fray, the pleasure building in the base of his spine. It didn't take him long before he couldn't hold back any more, coming with a deep, low growl.

Rodney followed him over the edge a moment later, clenching down around John's cock, his own orgasm rolling through his body before his entire body relaxed and he slumped against the bed sated. His eyes were half-open, thin slits of blue staring at John, gaze slightly unfocused.

Pulling out, John collapsed along Rodney's side. "Mmmm."

"Uh huh."

John huffed, inching around until they were both more comfortable, curled together. "s'good."

Rodney let out a long breath, turning his head toward John as his arms wrapped around his lover.

"G'night Rodney. Love you."

"Love you."

With a content sigh, John let himself slip into a deep, dreamless sleep.

***

The training exercise—a.k.a. the alpha male pissing contest—was just what Rodney expected.

They'd started with a team breakfast—Rodney ignoring Ronon as much as he could get away with—before they headed to the gateroom to draw their assignments. There were four four-man teams up against another four. Thirty-two men on the field.

Their objective: get the power source back to Atlantis with your entire team intact.

All of the teams started on the mainland—their starting points decided by the same drawing they'd done initially.

An hour later and Rodney found himself schlepping through the forest. "You know there was another way to do this that was much easier." Rodney commented—not for the first time. "I could have tweaked the jumper sensors. We would have flown in, grabbed it, and flown back. None of this…" Rodney waved his hands, "mucking around in the middle."

"That wasn't the point of the exercise, Rodney." John was on high alert, as were Teyla and Ronon. There was another team lurking out here somewhere looking to take them out of the race.

"But it would get the job done."

John froze suddenly, his fist going up in the military command for freeze and be quiet. Ronon turned suddenly, firing a single paintball into the trees. A yelp was his reward.

"What the—"

John grabbed Rodney and pulled him to his knees, dropping down beside him. Both Ronon and Teyla did the same, although all three of them were still scanning the area.

"Sheppard," Rodney hissed after a fully minute of silence.

"Shhh. He didn't reveal himself, so it wasn't a fatal hit to pull him out of the game. We need to take him out before we move on." John had leaned close, the words a bare whisper in Rodney's ear.

A few hand signals and Ronon was headed into the brush, barely disturbing a leaf of a blade of grass.

John and Teyla had moved so they were facing opposite directions, with Rodney between them. After another few minutes, there was a series of shots, and then Ronon was strolling back, two paint-smeared Marines looking sheepish behind him.

"Got two. Two left." Ronon's voice was unemotional, simply stating facts.

John nodded. "Any sign of them in the immediate area?"

"No. Just these two."

Standing, John smiled. "Good. Stay alert. Ronon, take point, Teyla, watch our six, just to be on the safe side. Let's move out."

They continued along the path for nearly fifteen minutes, Rodney checking his modified PDA as they walked, before he tapped John on the shoulder. "We need…damn. The signal changed."

John used another hand signal, calling them to a halt. Teyla and Ronon immediately started scanning the area while John turned to Rodney. "Changed? What are you getting?'

He shook his head, poking at the screen a few times before smacking it against his palm a few times. "The reading was clearly coming from up ahead. But now it's due south of our position."

"It could be a trap. Which reading do you trust more, the original, or the new one?"

"I have nothing to base that answer on. The first reading is gone."

John glanced around. "How close was the original reading to our position? And how close is the new one?"

"Ah…" Rodney thought back. "The first one is about two clicks from here. Same thing with the new reading."

"Fuck." John glanced around. "Odds are good one of them is a diversion. Can you run any other tests to give us an idea about which one might be the real power source?"

"It's going to take some time to re-wire the scanner."

John tapped his fingers against his gun for a moment. "We'll head to the new reading. Everyone stay on high alert, and McKay, if it changes at all again, let me know."

Rodney nodded. He paid more attention to the scanner than the terrain, trusting John to make sure he didn't fall on his face—which was a close call twice. But something wasn't right. The reading shouldn't have changed.

Unless…

John pulled him down again, field instincts kicking in. All three warriors were looking around warily. John leaned in again, his voice barely a whisper. "How close are we? Is the reading still the same?"

"Hasn't changed. But something's wrong. I need five minutes, ten minutes tops," he said, already tapping away at the screen. If he could just get the device to scan for a different frequency…

John nodded. "Stay down as much as you can in the meantime. Ronon, can you scout without getting caught?"

The Satedan nodded, already moving into the undergrowth, Rodney barely paying attention as he worked. He needed to scan on multiple frequencies…

John raised his paintball gun suddenly, the movement in Rodney's peripheral vision. A second later he fired, and nearby there was a soft umph of someone exhaling. Waiting a heartbeat, John fired again before another Marine stood, hands up, covered in paint.

"What the…?" Rodney glanced up, looking at the soldier before turning back to the PDA. Ah ha! There it was. He switched to the right mode and then told the device to start scanning again.

And he was right. Four energy signatures. Three the same, one different. And they were nearly four clicks away from the right one. Damn.

John had tapped on his radio. "Ronon, I just took out another Marine. Look sharp, they travel in pairs. McKay? Any progress?"

"The real prize is four clicks from here. North of us."

"Good job." John smiled warmly at him. "Ronon, return to our position. McKay filtered out the fake signals."

Rodney heard the click of acknowledgement over the radio and a few moments later, Ronon appeared out of nowhere. That man needed a cowbell around his neck. They moved out, keeping to the trails, pausing along the way. A few shots were fired in their direction, but no one was hit. Apparently they had gotten close to another team along the way.

They were careful, moving as a unit. After a while, John called another halt, moving to consult with Rodney again. "We've come about four clicks. How far off are we?"

"We should be there," Rodney said, glancing up, squinting into the clearing. But there was nothing there.

"Can you pinpoint the readings? Narrow it down. Odds are good they hid the power source. Ronon, Teyla, keep an eye on the perimeter. We still have a man out there somewhere."

"More than one." Ronon's voice was quiet as he slid away.

John raised an eyebrow—it was supposed to be four-on-four and they had taken out three already—but he didn't question it. Both he and Teyla stayed on high alert. "Rodney?"

"There's a power source in the middle of that clearing and I can't see anything."

"All right." He turned his radio on so Ronon could hear him as well. "Odds are good it's hidden in the middle of the clearing, only visible when we're on top of it. And we're going to operate as if it is both guarded and booby-trapped. Ronon, Teyla, patrol the perimeter, keeping McKay and me in sight at all times. Shoot anything that moves that isn't us. McKay, you and I are going to move in nice and slow, and if you see anything at all on your scanner or that looks off, call a halt. I'll do the same. Everyone clear?"

There were two acknowledgments over the radio. Rodney simply nodded, following John as they moved cautiously into the clearing, hovering on the edge.

They stayed low to the ground, and the sound of shots on either side of the clearing let them know something was going on. John, however, stayed focused, motioning for Rodney to freeze before they made it to the center of the clearing. Gesturing, he pointed to what looked like an innocent box in the middle of the clearing. "Can you scan it? See if there are any surprises?"

Rodney had been working on it as soon as the box came into view. "I'm getting a clear reading. Nothing wrong with it. We should be good to go. But we still have to get it back to Atlantis."

Picking up a rock, John tossed it at the box. When it hit, nothing happened. Tossing a lopsided grin at Rodney, he moved in, opening the box to pull out a small device whose only purpose in life was to put out a specific power signature. He handed it to Rodney. "Teyla, Ronon, we've secured the objective. Report."

"We have members from two other teams approaching."

"What? The teams weren't supposed to overlap... All right, meet us back where we broke, and we'll head back to the jumper. Everyone stay on high alert."

Staying low, John and Rodney made their way back to the rendezvous point. It was Rodney who spotted the sniper in the bushes, his gun aimed at John. Instead of warning the other man, he just shoved him out of the way, hearing the twin thumps of two guns firing.

John rolled, bringing his gun up and firing, nailing the man in between his eyes. The Marine spluttered, but John took the gun. "Jefferson, I thought you're team was supposed to be three miles away going after your own power source. Wanna tell me what you're doing here?"

"We lost two members in the first ten minutes. We figured we'd give you a hard time, sir."

John raised an eyebrow. "Lovely." When Ronon and Teyla came into view, he glanced at them. "Just how many Marines have we taken out at this point? I'd like to know how many other industrious teams we have."

Ronon shrugged. "Three more."

"I have incapacitated two."

"So we've taken out nine so far." John sighed. "All right, stay on high alert. It looks like we're the main target of the day. Let's move out."

"Great," Rodney muttered, holding the "power source" to his chest. He'd swapped over the scanner back to its original mode as a life sign detector when John was talking with the team. "And we have four dots approaching."

Nodding, John gave the signal and they moved out. Over the course of the next half-hour as they trekked back to the jumper, they took out a total of six more Marines.

"Why are they gunning for us?" Rodney asked as John shoved him down behind some bushes for the fifth time in ten minutes. They weren't getting very far.

John was growling softly. "Because they fucking know if I can't get my team home from a training run, my career on Atlantis is pretty much over."

"But it's like thirty to four! Those aren't great odds."

"No shit." John was watching the forest around them. "At this point I'm wondering if Lorne's team is the only one not actively trying to shoot at us."

Rodney shook his head, eyeing the screen on his scanner. There were several other blips in the area, most far off. "At the rate we're going it's going to take us hours to get to the jumper. Can someone go ahead and get it and come back?"

John paused, shooting him a surprised look. "Actually, that's a good idea. There's a clearing about a quarter click from here. You three head there, Teyla is in charge. I'll go for the jumper and pick you up."

"Here." Rodney handed over the LDS. "Take this. It'll help you."

He nodded. "Thanks. All right, Teyla, Ronon, you know what to do. Keep McKay and our prize safe, and I'll rendezvous with you ASAP."

Three heads nodded at John and he was off a moment later after checking the LSD, his paint-ball gun held at the ready. Teyla silently directed them toward the clearing, the small device heavy in Rodney's front vest pocket. He knew they could track them because of the device and its specific signature. Which basically made them sitting ducks.

They found a small alcove of trees that was marginally defensible, Ronon and Teyla taking up positions on either side, with Rodney protected in the back. They took out four more Marines in the next half hour, before John was on the radio suddenly. "Sheppard here. I'm at the jumper and on my way to pick you up. How are you guys doing?"

"We may need to move again. It seems the teams are very…persistent," Teyla replied quietly, her silent hand signal to Ronon sending him ahead.

"I took out another three on my way. How many are we up to now? There were twenty-eight people in the field besides us. We can rule out Lorne's four as well, so that's a potential twenty-four Marines coming against us."

"We have eliminated another four, making the final total…sixteen. There are yet another eight remaining." Teyla was tugging Rodney upright as they headed away from the clearing.

Rodney clicked on his radio, speaking low. "They're tracking us because of the device I'm carrying. And turning it off would be pointless since we're supposed to bring back working technology."

"I'm a minute out. Can you still rendezvous in the clearing?"

"No," Teyla said her voice tight, seeing something Rodney couldn't. "I require radio silence. I will contact you when we are secure." Teyla tapped her radio off.

Rodney huffed as he tapped his radio off, following Teyla's hand signals to the letter and trying to be quiet. It was hard. He wasn't exactly built for stealth. Teyla pointed to a small alcove for him to wait, indicating that she was going to scout ahead.

He nodded in understanding, wishing that he had his LSD. At least he could see what was out there instead of this invisible threat. Kneeling in the dirt next to a tree, Rodney kept quiet, his eyes scanning the undergrowth that Teyla had disappeared into.

He wasn't expecting the arm wrapping around his throat and hauling him upright. He opened his mouth to complain, but the arm tightened and a voice hissed in his ear.

"Fancy meeting you here, McKay." It was Michaels.

"What…what are you doing?" He managed to squeak out.

Michaels' laugh in his ear was more than a little disturbing. Rodney didn't think this was a training exercise for the man anymore. But before he could do anything else, a paintball exploded at almost point-blank range on the Marine's forehead, making him release Rodney and stumble back. Ronon appeared from out of nowhere, his expression dark.

"You could have hit me!"

"Wasn't aiming at you." Ronon didn't take his eyes off Michaels. "You're dead."

Rodney turned, seeing Michaels' angry face, but Teyla appeared a moment later. "Rodney, are you okay?"

"Yes, yes. Fine," he said, still in shock, still feeling some of the wet pain splatter on the side of his face.

"He's going to try something as soon as we turn around." Ronon was still watching the 'enemy' but his words were directed at Teyla. "Can I stun him?"

"No. Rodney, we need to meet the jumper. Ronon, keep an eye on him until we're away."

The former Runner nodded curtly, although he was fondling his holstered energy gun.

Teyla gestured for Rodney to move and he did a moment later, feet catching on the undergrowth without toppling him over. They moved quickly and quietly back to the clearing and the awaiting jumper, Sheppard standing on the ramp his gun at the ready.

His eyes scanned the group, his expression going tight. "Ronon?"

"He will follow shortly," Teyla said. "We had an encounter with one of the Marines."

Rodney had learned to read his lover fairly well. Although his expression was mostly blank, Sheppard was absolutely furious. "What kind of encounter?"

"I believe he was going to attempt to take the energy device from Rodney," she said as their feet finally hit the ramp. Rodney went to step around John, but the other man caught his arm, his eyes on the side of his head.

"This isn't splatter from a direct hit." John brushed a thumb through the paint. "Just how close were you? What the hell happened?"

"Close," Rodney said, shrugging out of John's hands. "Can we go? I'm tired and dirty and really want a shower."

John nodded once, sharply. He glanced back as Ronon came loping into view. As soon as they were all in the jumper, he moved back to the pilot seat, taking them into the air. "Atlantis, this is Jumper 1, we're returning to base."

"Acknowledged, Jumper 1," came the reply from the Canadian technician. "Please report your status."

"All present and accounted for, we have the target power source, and we're pissed as hell that while we were retrieving it, someone apparently forgot to tell us the rules of the game had changed." The tension in John's frame was almost coming off him in visible waves.

"Sir?" Chuck's reply was guarded, obviously hearing the anger in John's tone. "Doctor Weir requests a full briefing upon arrival. Should we recall the other teams?"

"Considering my team took out the vast majority of them, there isn't anyone from the other teams still in the running. Tell Weir we'll report to the briefing room as soon as we arrive."

"John?" Elizabeth came on a moment later. "What happened?"

"Apparently everyone decided it would be more fun to ambush my team. At last count, we tagged seventeen Marines, and the LSD read another four in the area when we took off."

Rodney leaned in. "Part of that was the signal from the device. It made it easy to track us."

"They shouldn't have been in the area in the first place. It was designed to be four-on-four, not fucking twenty-four on four." John was pissed.

"We're going to recall all the personnel now," Elizabeth said. "And we'll need to have a full de-brief once they're all back, but we'll talk first."

"Good. We should arrive in the next five minutes. Sheppard out."

"Are you like flying at nine-hundred kilometers an hour or something? It should take us thirty or forty minutes to get back," Rodney asked, narrowing his eyes at John.

John just tightened his grip on the jumper controls.

"Fine. Kill us on the way home."

Teyla touched Rodney's shoulder, drawing his attention. "Allow me to wipe the paint away. It cannot be comfortable, drying as it is on your skin."

"I’m fine," he said, waving her off. "You'll just smear it anyway."

She glanced at John. "As you wish. Ronon and myself will be in the rear of the jumper." Rising, she moved back, out of direct earshot, as long as voices were kept down.

Rodney glanced at John before sighing and staring out the front window. What a mess.

"I'm sorry." It was spoken low, and John hadn't taken his eyes off the display in front of him.

"For what?"

"This whole fiasco."

"Not your fault. And we did kick ass."

John glanced over, lips twitching up momentarily. "Yeah, we did. We took out most of the Marines participating. If we had been using live ammo, I'd be out a lot of men."

"Should prove your Alpha-maleness—not that it needed proving in the first place."

"If it ensures I stay in Atlantis as military commander, then it did its job. But I'm pissed as hell that most of my men took it upon themselves to make up their own mission objectives."

"They were tracking the same energy signature we were."

"Actually, no, they weren't. It was set up so there were four power sources. They should have been on other parts of the mainland, tracking their own energy signatures. It wasn't supposed to be a free-for-all."

"That's the only way they would have been able to track us, John. Obviously someone screwed up somewhere."

"Oh, that is how they were tracking us. They just weren't supposed to be in that area to begin with. They were all trying to get a fucking piece of me instead of focusing on the objectives they had been given." The little bit of tension that had bled off Sheppard started to return.

"I don't know what to tell you. We did it. We're done. Let's just move on. You made your point."

John sighed, but otherwise didn't respond. It didn't take them long before Atlantis was coming into view, a testament to just how fast John was flying them.

They landed in the bay a few minutes later, Radek greeting them as they stepped out. Rodney handed over the device they'd retrieved. "This is yours, I believe."

He nodded. "Yes, most excellent. It worked well, yes?"

"If you mean it acted like a homing beacon for every team out there, then yes, it worked fine." John pushed by him, already headed for the briefing room.

Radek blinked. "No. Each team had their own beacon to find. There are four of these planted on the mainland."

"Well, everyone was looking for ours."

"They should not have picked yours up on their equipment. The teams were not close enough together to pick up on one another's energy signals. It was planned that way deliberately."

John glanced back at the scientists, who were following him. "It worked as designed, Radek. It was the other teams who took it upon themselves to leave their designated areas, and they used the signal from the beacon to find us, knowing we were still actually running the course." He finished as they walked into the briefing room, so Elizabeth heard the explanation as well.

"That is not possible. The scanners were set to only focus on the specific beacon the team was assigned—which is why you were given specific LSD unit. It was designed to ignore the other beacons," Radek said, shaking his head.

John dropped into a chair. "Unless you have some other explanation as to how they were all able to pinpoint our location, that's the theory I'm going with. As I said on the radio, we took out seventeen Marines with more in the area. When I caught the first guy out of position, he said they lost people early on so decided it would be more interesting to come give my team a hard time."

"Someone had to have tampered with devices. Only way this could happen," Radek said definitively.

John shrugged. "However they did it, we were fucking ambushed. If it wasn't the fact that I couldn't call the damn thing off without risking my career further at this point, I would have. Instead, we just tagged a lot of Marines."

"Welcome back," Elizabeth said as the conference room doors slid shut. "And just so you know, Lorne's team is on its way back. They were successful as well and will be here within the next forty-five minutes."

John nodded. "Good. So at least one—two, if you count the team who was his opposition—did what they were supposed to."

"That seems to be the case," she said, settling into her chair at the head of the table, her eyes drifting around the room, pausing on Rodney. "I thought no one got hit."

John followed her gaze. "No one did. Rodney was standing close to one of the Marines Ronon shot. He got splattered."

"So that's…" she began, her voice trailing off as Rodney nodded.

"Had it been real, yes, that would be brains. Lovely isn't it?" Rodney scowled, crossing his arms over his chest.

John sighed, slumping into his seat. "So our team retrieved the power source, took out a lot of opposition, and made it back with the full team in tact. I sure as hell hope that means we won the damn thing at least."

"You made it back first, so that's a yes," Elizabeth said with a brisk nod. "Do I even want to know what happened or how Rodney managed to get that close to a hit?"

John shrugged. "We were encountering more and more opposition, so after we retrieved the object, we split up. I went for the jumper, and the rest of the team met me in a clearing. I wasn't there for the shot that got close to McKay." He glanced at Rodney. "He'll have to tell you about that one."

Rodney shrugged shifting in his chair, his eyes drifting to Ronon and Teyla before focusing on Elizabeth. It was easier than looking at John's angry expression. He gestured to the two aliens with his hand as he spoke. "They were doing their whole 'one-with-the-woods' routine. Ronon was tracking something and Teyla knew something was wrong. She shoved me down behind a tree or bush or something. The next thing I know I have an arm around my neck and someone's yanking me to my feet. Less than a minute later and Ronon shot the guy in the forehead that was holding me."

John had gone stiff, the rage from earlier back with a vengeance. "Someone put their fucking hands on you? That was in no way part of the damn exercise. Who was it?"

"He didn't hurt me," Rodney said turning toward John. "And it's not like that hasn't happened before."

"That wasn't the question." John looked over at Ronon. "Who was it? Did you recognize the Marine?"

Ronon shook his head. "Didn't stop to ask."

Scrubbing a hand across his face, John gave a frustrated growl. It was similar enough to the noise he made in the bedroom occasionally that Rodney felt himself responding a little. "All right. Moot point I suppose. God I'm tired and I need a shower."

"I'm not sure it's such a moot point," Elizabeth said, her lips pressing into a thin line. "If someone went out of their way to do something not outlined for the training exercise…" Her eyes narrowed as she turned to Rodney. "Who was it?"

John met Rodney's gaze, raising an eyebrow.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "It was Michaels. What does it matter?"

"Fuck." John closed his eyes. "Michaels is my biggest problem, bar none."

"I thought that was Jameson and Anderson and Phillips and—"

"Michaels is the ring leader, from the intelligence I've been able to piece together. The others are mostly following his lead." John sighed.

"How do you want to handle the briefing, John?" Elizabeth asked after a few silent beats.

Sheppard stared at the table for a moment. "I think it needs to be run by you and Zelenka. You were the ones who organized it, and who served as the outside observers."

She nodded. "And what do you want to do with those who didn't complete the training? Do they have to run it again?"

Sheppard nodded. "Yes. Any teams who did not follow the exercise standing orders will run it again next time. Put them back on the schedule after those who already signed up. And I plan to make it known that, at least for my soldiers, anyone who hasn't run it clean doesn't go off-world. Teams who have yet to make an attempt are exempt from that, but once they try, they complete it or they don't get new missions. And I think after three tries and fails, all team members will automatically be shipped back to Earth as unsuitable for the unique challenges Pegasus offers."

Elizabeth nodded. "Sounds fair, but that will certainly give your team more work for the short-term."

John nodded. "I'm aware of that. Lorne's and my team have run it and passed, and there are quite a few teams who have yet to make an attempt. We can shuffle anything critical, and the non-crits can be delayed."

"Do you want this to apply to new teams only or all teams?"

"All teams, eventually. We can refine the training, and as we get more personnel, I'd like to prevent any teams from going off-world until they pass the course. That's not practical for now, but it's where I'd like to go with it. I want to know that everyone has the basic ability to survive out there before I send them through the gate."

"So for now, only the new teams," she said, nodding as she jotted notes on her PDA. She glanced up, her gaze taking in everyone. "Okay. I'll expect you at the briefing in two hours in the auditorium, otherwise you're dismissed. You might want to hit the showers."

Rising, John actually saluted her, which was rare enough to be notable. "Yes, Ma'am. I'll be in radio contact if you need me before that, except for when I'm in the shower."

Rodney narrowed his eyes at John as he clamored to his feet, trailing his team out of the door, Radek staying behind to talk with Elizabeth. They were silent until they reached the living quarters area, Ronon and Teyla heading the other way to their quarters. "So?"

John stepped into his room, standing aside so Rodney could follow him in. Once the door was closed, he reached out, tracing a finger across the collar Rodney was still wearing. "I'm trying not to let my possessive need to pummel anyone for touching you cloud my thinking. But I need you to be naked right now."

"People are going to touch me in the course of a day, John."

His lover moved in, pushing a knee between Rodney's legs as he pressed him against the wall. He lowered his head to kiss the skin around the collar gently. "I know. But not wrapping their damn arm around your neck. Casual touches I've forced myself to get over, but that... I'm trying not to be irrational about it, but I'm guessing I'm not succeeding very well."

Rodney squirmed, but between the wall at his back and John at his front, he wasn't getting very far. "I'm covered in paint."

"Mmm. Yes, this would be better naked and wet." John rubbed against Rodney's groin until it was hard, and he could feel himself leaking. Then his lover stepped back. "Strip, and come join me."

Breathing heavily, Rodney nodded, starting to pull the clothes from his body, surprised by the amount of paint on his BDU jacket.

By the time he got to the bathroom, John was already naked and standing under the hot spray, eyes closed.

Rodney paused, taking the time to look, still amazed that John wanted anything to do with him. He was just…hot. So hot.

Sheppard cracked an eye, throwing a lazy grin back at Rodney. "Hey, there. Coming? I have ravishing to do, and my hair needs to be washed."

"Your hair? I have bright blue paint in most of mine," he grumbled as he stepped in, sighing as the water hit his body.

"I thought it was a given that I'm going to wash—and then lick—every inch of your body. I don't always have you do me though. Today I need it."

"You know you can have whatever you want, right? That's how this…" Rodney's hand gestured between the two of them, "works."

"I know." John leaned in to kiss him sweetly. "Usually I like to leave you boneless in the shower. But today I want to feel your fingers in my hair, on my body. After I'm done with you."

"As long as I can get this paint off of me and we get to the briefing on time…I’m yours."

John hummed, grabbing the washcloth. He spent the next several minutes cleaning every trace of paint, sweat, and dirt off Rodney's body.

"You sure you got everything?" Rodney asked when John tucked the washcloth on the small shelf.

With a wicked grin, John dropped to his knees. "Nope. Saved the best for last." He licked a stripe up Rodney's erection.

"Holy…John…oh…"

Humming, John swallowed him down, drawing out the pleasure and backing off every time Rodney started to get close to coming.

Rodney's fingers were in John's hair, massaging his scalp, trying not to push or direct, instead just trying to feel. And god…it felt wonderful.

Pulling off, John blew on the tip, sending shivers through Rodney's body. "Come for me. Let me taste you." And then Rodney was back in his happy place.

And what a happy place it was.

A few seconds more and Rodney was coming, achingly slow and sweet, pleasure running deep as John swallowed every drop, leaving him slightly rung out. He was panting and breathing heavily as he slumped against the wall. John pulled off and glanced up Rodney's body, his smile evil.

"Your turn. Wash me as thoroughly as I wash you. And then I'm going to fuck you."

Rodney nodded, speech slightly beyond him right now. He moved slowly, positioning John against the wall as he began, washing John inch by inch with the washcloth, tracing each pass of the cloth with his fingers, lips pressing randomly to skin. He worked slowly, carefully from top to bottom, even making John lift his feet so he could get between each toe. He finally turned to John's hair, pouring a dollop of shampoo into his hand before he started there, massaging his lover's scalp, making sure John went boneless.

All throughout, John made happy, content noises, arching into Rodney's caresses.

When Rodney was certain he'd worked the tension out of John, he tugged him under the shower, rinsing the suds from John's hair.

As soon as the soap was gone, John moved in, claiming Rodney's mouth again. He could feel Sheppard's erection hot and heavy against his thigh.

Rodney moaned into the kiss, his hands on John's hips rubbing in small circles as John pushed him up against the wall once again.

With a groan, John broke away. "Turn around. I need to be inside you now."

Shifting, Rodney got himself situated quickly—forearms on the wall, head resting on them as he angled his ass out, his legs spread.

Each cheek was caressed, but instead of fingers pressing inside, he felt the blunt head of John's dick nudging his entrance. "Tell me if you're not loose enough to take me like this." John's voice was ragged.

Rodney didn't care, just wanting Sheppard to hurry up. He pressed back against John, hearing his lover gasp.

"Oh fuck..." And then John was pressing in, filling him.

And it hurt as he stretched to accommodate John. He groaned, trying to get his body to relax.

Once he was all the way in, John leaned heavily against Rodney's back. He could feel the trembling effort it was taking his lover to hold still. "Tell…tell me when I can go without hurting you."

"Minute…need…oh…" Rodney groaned, biting his lip as his body slowly relaxed.

John's breath was hot as he panted against Rodney's neck, seemingly not even aware of the small, needy noises he was making on each exhale.

And even though Rodney wasn't quite ready, the need for John to "move damn it!" was getting stronger. "Please…" he whispered, pushing back into John.

That tore a moan out of Sheppard, whose hips stuttered slightly. "Rodney... God, need you, but don't want to hurt you..."

"Please, John…move. Need you to move."

Sobbing softly, he did. Thrusting into Rodney with small, short movements that quickly got harder, faster, tagging his prostate on every pass.

It hurt at first, but Rodney quickly adjusted once John started moving and pleasure began to rise. He was moaning continually, his body plastered against the wall from the force of John's fucking.

"Oh God oh fuck oh Rodney!" John slammed into him a few more times and then he was coming, filling Rodney, touching him deep inside.

Rodney held onto the wall, sandwiched between the hard surface and John's body, impaled by his lover's softening cock. He was panting, hard and needy, but had held on, waiting for John to give him permission.

With a groan, John pulled out and started to sink to the floor. "Rodney…Gimmie…minute…and I'll… take care of you…"

Rodney nodded, pressing his head against the wall taking deep breaths as he talked himself back.

From his new seat on the floor, John reached out, curling his long fingers along the inside of Rodney's thigh. "How close are you?"

It took a moment to get the words out. "Not as close as two minutes ago."

Sheppard started to caress, not touching the places Rodney really wanted him to. "Can you hold off until tonight if I put a ring on you? Stay hard and needy for me for a few hours? If you're too close, it’s okay to say so."

"If you can help me back off, yes."

John hummed. "So good…" He stood slowly, using the wall as support, as the water shut off. "Come on. Let me dry you off and get us both dressed again. You're going to spend the rest of the day knowing exactly who you belong to."

Rodney moaned, his over-sensitized skin reacting to every touch of John's hands as he leaned into every caress. John was careful, making sure he stayed away from the most sensitive spots.

Before he put any clothes back on Rodney, in addition to the collar he was already wearing, John added one of the smaller plugs, the ankle cuffs that sat close to his skin and would be hidden by his clothes, and a cock ring.

By the time the final cuff was locked onto his ankle, Rodney was vibrating again and he knew his eyes were wide and dilated as he watched John.

"Mine. No one else gets to touch you like this. You belong to me." John's gaze was possessive again, demanding.

"Yours," Rodney whispered, nodding his head slightly. No one else would ever touch him like this. John was the only one.

Strong, competent hands skimmed up Rodney's body as John stood straight again. "You're going to stay at least half-hard for the rest of the day. Tonight, when you come home, as soon as the door is closed, strip down to what you're wearing right now. You'll get on the bed, hands and knees, and wait for me. By then I want you completely hard and leaking, aching for me."

"I understand." Rodney shivered as John's hands caressed his sides, goose bumps forming in their wake.

"Good." John claimed his mouth again, the kiss fierce, dominant. When he broke it, his eyes glittered, dangerous and sexy and so damn hot it made Rodney want to pant.

"Yours, all yours, John," he whispered, holding his partner's eyes, his hands sitting lightly on his lover's hips.

John hummed, kissing him again, gentler this time. "All right, time to get dressed and head to the briefing."

"I know. Don't want to."

"Me neither. But we don't have a choice." John ran his hands up and down Rodney's sides one last time before stepping away to grab clean clothes, dressing both of them quickly.

If John let him, Rodney knew he could come right then with just a word from his lover. And now he had to sit through a stupid briefing for an ungodly amount of time.

John seemed to get at least some of what was going on in Rodney's head, because his eyes danced again, this time with mischief. "I know you come on command, but can you just get hard on command? If I lean over in the meeting—or push a piece of paper across a table—and all I say is 'now,' will you go to full mast? Will you strain against your BDUs, aching and knowing there won't be any relief for hours yet?"

Rodney moaned, shaking his head. "Don't know…please…have to get through this briefing."

John's chuckle hinted at a future of sexual frustration—followed by amazingly intense orgasms—in Rodney's near future. "The briefing won't last all day. Maybe I'll call you on the radio this afternoon, or drop by the labs, leave a note in your pocket."

"John…" he moaned, reaching out, but John stepped back, shaking his head.

"Briefing. I'll play with you later. Remember, at least half-hard all day. If you find yourself flagging, just call me, and I'll see what I can do about it."

"Don't see that as a problem," he whispered, trying not to whimper.

John grinned. "Good. I will find time to check. If you obey, I'll make it extra good tonight. I promise. You'll get to come either way, but... I'll make it better, the harder you can keep yourself for me and still function."

"'kay," he nodded, knowing he had to pull himself up for the briefing, but also glad that he didn't have to really participate.

They walked out, both of them content to just walk quietly until they got to the auditorium they were using as a briefing room.

There were already several people there but John moved quickly through them, settling down in the center of the room on the aisle, letting Rodney step past him into the row of seats. Elizabeth was already there, standing at the front of the room going over her notes.

People were fidgeting, and more than one was looking in their direction, with a variety of surprised and wary expressions. John, for his part, was slouched effortlessly in his seat, not giving any outward indication that he had worked so hard this morning.

Rodney hated the eyes.

Teyla and the caveman came in, sitting in the two seats right behind him and John. He noted that they were equally calm. Only a fleeting smirk from John let him know that this was an act, probably meant to unnerve the Marines further.

And it was working. After staring at them, they finally sat down in groups, staring at them some more.

At the front of the room, Elizabeth shot an amused glance at John and then cleared her throat, calling the briefing to order.

She went through the rules and purpose of the training mission, making sure to highlight the 'bring them all home in one piece' mentality and the necessity of it.

And then she got to the details. How she knew where everyone was in the field was amazing. She was able to track and elaborate on everyone's movements—especially those out of place—before she changed everything, talking about Sheppard's and Lorne's teams and their successes.

The tone of the room went from vaguely bored to stunned over the course of the mission, as people started doing the math in their heads. The eyes on their team got wider, and John's posture just got lazier.

"So this is the kind of skill and success we want to make sure every off-world team can have," Elizabeth said, offering John and Lorne a smile. "I suggest you learn from these two men and their teams. They certainly have a lot to teach you." She paused before continuing. "Any questions?"

The room went deadly quiet. John—damn the man for having extraordinary dramatic timing when he cared to exercise it—rose, informing the assembled men of the new requirements he had detailed to Elizabeth earlier. "If anyone has any questions about this, or about the training, I'll be in my office for most of the afternoon."

Several heads nodded and the room echoed with "Yes, sirs" from every corner. John looked around before finally nodding.

Glancing over at Elizabeth, John seemed to communicate with her silently. He nodded once. "All right then. Report to your assigned afternoon duties. Dismissed."

The military personal filed out leaving Rodney and the rest of his team with Elizabeth. "Well, that went well."

"Better than expected actually." Rodney had learned to tell the difference between John when he was really relaxed, and when he was faking it. He seemed to be shedding tension in waves.

"Think anyone will come knocking?"

"I don't know. Possibly. I hope they do—I'd rather answer questions directly than deal with yet more rumors. So on that note, I had probably better head that direction."

Rodney nodded. "I'm back on usual time?"

"Yup. I'll catch you for dinner later." John's smile turned warm for a brief flash.

"Dinner. Right. See you then," he said as John turned and walked out, Elizabeth joining him a moment later.

Teyla and Ronon were the only ones left in the room. "You did very well today, Rodney. I wished to express my approval, that you have obviously been training, and your hard work is paying off. Ronon was also impressed."

Rodney waved them off. "You were the ones who did all the…scouting and forest-stuff. I just read a scanner screen and followed behind. Hard to screw that up, even for me."

She shook her head, smiling warmly. It was Ronon, however, who spoke up. "You followed orders, did your job. Can't say the same of the other guys."

"If you hadn't noticed, I'm the genius here. I know when to keep my trap shut."

Grinning now, Teyla pulled him into the head-touch thing. "You did an excellent job, performing your role on our team exactly as needed. Thank you, and I hope we will see you later at the evening meal."

"John insisted, so I will be eating dinner," he said, feeling his face flush a little.

She just smiled, and then both of them left, leaving Rodney alone.

Sighing, he ran his hand over the back of his neck, touching the metal collar. He had work to do, but all he really wanted was to lay down with John and sleep for a week. That was certainly a better option than working.

Taking another breath, Rodney headed out of the auditorium and toward the labs. There was always work to be done.

***

As he strolled out of the briefing room, John couldn’t help but feel a little smug. He knew it was petty, but those Marines had been gob-smacked when they put two and two together and realized how many men his team had taken out. He thought maybe he would try and get some of the really good popcorn off the black market, and treat Ronon, Teyla and Rodney to a celebratory movie night.

Just not tonight. Tonight was for other types of celebrating.

He was, however, surprised when, halfway to his office, he was stopped by a small crowd of milling soldiers.

"Sir?" One of the Marines stepped forward, a new one. John racked his brain to pull up his name. Andrew…Andrew Chandler. Boy from the Midwest. Sharpshooter.

"Chandler. What can I do for you? And nice shooting, by the way. I've seen you on the range."

"Sir, thank you, sir," he said. "We…we weren't on the course today," he said, his eyes taking in the other three with him. "But we'd like to know…how did you do that, sir? And with a scientist on your team?"

Hook, line, and sinker. John fought the urge to crow in triumph. "Every member of my team is on it for a reason, Sergeant. I know my choices are a bit unusual, but, as you can see, I choose them each for very specific things."

"I…we can see that, sir."

John smiled at him—the boy was young, and hadn't been one of the troublemakers, none of this group had. They just didn't have anything but rumors to go by before. "I know it's a bit hard to wrap your heads around. We're trained to recognize rank, and with that ability, and we're also taught that rank infers ability. But the U.S. Military didn't take into account traveling to other galaxies, or meeting and dealing with alien cultures. Dex was in the military of his home world, with the rank of Specialist, which, as near as we can tell, was pretty close to a Marine Sergeant. And then he spent seven years running, which honed his skills further. And Emmagen is the leader of her people, trained in both fighting—everyone in this galaxy learns to fight young to stay alive—as well as negotiation and diplomacy. And McKay is truly as brilliant as he claims. The Ancients left technology all over the place, which often requires a specialist to use or diffuse."

Chandler nodded, his gaze shifting to his team—all military. John had set up some of the teams that way for a reason. "But…we've just gotten used to each other, sir. Does that mean we're going to be on different teams?"

John let his smile encompass all of them. "Nope. Part of surviving out here is also knowing and trusting your team—and I did want some all-military teams. There will be times when that is preferred to mixed. My goal is to eventually have enough teams that we can specialize a bit, send the right types of teams on the right types of missions, instead of just whoever is free. However, there might be times I'll ask you to take someone from the science or medical teams with you—in those instances, the planets will have already been cleared, most likely, and your role will be as escort and guard."

Another nod. "Understood, sir." He paused again. "Could…from what we've heard…would it be possible to get Mister Dex to teach us a few things about…well, about what he does?"

John had to fight the urge to do something inappropriate in his glee. "Of course. Teyla is also available to teach the stick-fighting, which is not only a great way to condition yourself, but it ensures that even if you get disarmed, all you need to do is find a branch and you're up and running again. They have both posted schedules in the gym, and if there's enough interest, we'll eventually offer sign-ups of some sort. For now, just show up when they're there, and you can learn from them."

Chandler offered a smile—as did the rest of his team. "Thank you, sir. We'll do that. We're already scheduled in for the next training session on the mainland and we have no intention of running it twice."

He chuckled. "Excellent. That's the kind of thing I like to hear."

"Sorry to keep you, sir, and thank you."

"Any time. My door is always open." He gave them a salute, and with a lighter step, made his way to his office.

Lorne was lounging in front of his door, a smirk on his face as John walked up. "Pleased, aren't you?"

"Lorne, I think I might put a promotion in for you. This worked beautifully as far as I can tell." They moved into his office, both of them finding seats. "I could have done without being ambushed by almost everyone except your team out there, but hey, it proved my point I suppose."

"Yeah. What happened there?"

John rolled his eyes. "I think the final count was seventeen Marines that we took out, with a few others in the area when I picked up my team in the jumper."

Lorne shook his head and chuckled. "And here I thought I was doing well and we just had to deal with four. And you did all that and made it back to Atlantis an hour before we did." He rolled his eyes. "It was certainly fun to hit some of those smug faces with paint. And I saw Michaels. Holy hell, he still has a stain on his forehead. Someone got him good."

John narrowed his eyes. "He took it upon himself to...interpret the rules a bit differently. Came up behind McKay and tried to take him hostage. Ronon shot him point-blank to make him let go."

"Certainly got the point across. I thought there wasn’t supposed to be any close contact, no hand-to-hand?"

"There wasn't. And it bothers me that he tried. But I wasn't there, so I couldn't do anything about it, and now it's a little late. I don't think this will be enough to convince Michaels to shape up, although it may make him quieter about it. And hopefully, it will sway some of the people who were following him blindly not to listen to the bullshit."

"I guess we'll see how things shake out." Lorne rose to his feet, heading to the door. "I’m going to finish up a few things and then get an early dinner. I'll be on radio if you need me, sir."

"Thank you Lorne, and great job out there. You guys ran a clean course, and did what you needed to. Team coming together as you want it to? Everyone did their jobs?" He was curious about how Parrish was doing.

"I never knew David could be so sneaky," Lorne said, his eyes unfocused slightly as he thought back. "The damn man managed to get behind two Marines and hit them without making a sound. I swear he must wear some kind of sound-suppression system."

John chuckled, grinning widely. "He has quite the hidden talent. Put him in a forest situation, and he'd probably be able to take us all out before we even knew he was there. Ronon is probably the only one I've ever seen who's better at that."

"That guy is just damn scary."

"Maybe we should have Parrish do a few training runs with Ronon. He's good, better than good, and that will just make him amazing."

Lorne laughed, shaking his head. "Can you imagine the two of them out in the woods? We'll never find them again."

"If this takes off the way I hope it will, I might just put the two of them in charge of stealth training. It wouldn't be a bad thing for the Marines to learn to move a little quieter."

"Oh god yeah. The chanting has got to go."

"Chanting?"

This time Lorne laughed loudly. "Kidding, sir."

John laughed along with him. "Don't scare me like that. God, I could just imagine it...." Shaking his head, John made a shooing motion. "Go eat, congratulate your team on a job well done, and I'll catch up with you tomorrow for more paperwork. We need to write up a report on how successful this thing was for the SGC."

"I'll tell them in the morning when I see them. Have a good night."

Nodding, John turned to his computer. Throughout the afternoon, he had a few more soldiers drop in, having conversations much the same as the one with Chandler and his team. He even managed to find time to radio Rodney several times, just to tell him 'now' and get a strangled berating for the trouble. All in all, a good day.

John sighed and stretched as he rose, finally finished for the day. He needed to swing by his room before he grabbed dinner.

He wasn't expecting the sight when he got there: Rodney, naked on his bed, on his hands and knees. Waiting.

John sucked in a breath, taking in just how hard his lover was, trembling with the effort of holding still. "Rodney... fuck... I wasn't expecting... not yet... Oh god..." He moved directly to McKay's side, running a hand up his back.

Rodney shuddered at John's touch. "Wanted…surprise…you."

Humming, John pressed a kiss into the small of Rodney's back. "Good, very good. God, you're so fucking gorgeous like this."

Rodney stilled under John's hand. Waiting. Waiting for him. He wanted to just take him now, but they needed to eat dinner.

On the other hand... John was hard as a rock, and had been since he had walked in. Stroking a finger down Rodney's back, he trailed it down his lover's crack, teasing against his entrance.

"Please, John." The whispered words were hushed, barely loud enough for John to hear, but the desperation was there.

Working carefully, John got the tip of his finger in around the plug. "Yes. Soon, love. Just hold on for me a little longer. I want to enjoy you for a minute."

"Here…yours," he panted, body trembling.

John continued to tease, not able to push in far with the plug. "We do have to have dinner still. I don't want you to go into shock because I didn't let you eat."

"I know," Rodney said, moaning as John teased him.

"But now you've got me hard, all laid out like this. Quite the dilemma, do I fuck you, exactly like I've had in my head since we got back this afternoon, do I have you blow me, to hold me over until we get back, or do I make us both wait until after dinner?"

"Fuck me," Rodney said immediately, lifting his head to look over his shoulder at John. "Please, John. Need to feel you."

"Oh, you'll get fucked tonight. The only question is now, or later when I can take my time?" Reaching his over hand around, John got a hand on Rodney's erection, stroking it softly.

"Oh…" Rodney moaned, shuddering hard, sucking in a deep breath.

Pulling his hand carefully free of Rodney's ass, John let his grin turn a bit wicked. He swiped his thumb across the tip of Rodney's dick, coating it with pre-come. Then he swiped the fluid across his lover's mouth, inviting him to taste his own desperation.

Rodney opened his mouth just wide enough for John's thumb to slide in, sucking on the finger and moaning quietly.

Angling himself to watch, John continued to gather the moisture—which was coming faster now—and give it to Rodney. His own pants were getting more than a little uncomfortable.

And each time John withdrew his finger to rub the tip of Rodney's cock, McKay left his mouth open slightly, panting as he waited for John's fingers to return.

With another wicked grin, on the next pass, after he made sure Rodney was watching, John sucked the pre-come off his own finger, lashes fluttering as he chased the flavor.

Rodney moaned loudly, leaning forward slightly to get closer to John.

Opening his own pants, John pulled himself out, getting a bit of his own pre-come on his thumb. Without looking away from Rodney, he sucked it off.

John saw Rodney's eyes dilate, the need and want clearly on his face. He shifted on the bed and John knew exactly what Rodney was about to do.

"Oh, did you want to taste too?" He got a bit more of his own fluid and held it up to Rodney's lips.

Rodney moaned, his lips around John's fingers a moment later, sucking and licking to get every drop.

While Rodney sucked on his fingers, John wrapped his free hand around himself, starting to stroke slowly.

McKay shifted again, managing to move a few inches closer to John, his eyes fixed on John's hand and cock, the whimpers and moans increasing in volume.

"Do you want to suck me, Rodney? Taste me as I come down your throat? Do you want to use your tongue and teeth, make me moan and groan and squirm because you give such fucking fantastic blowjobs?"

He nodded eagerly, making a move to shift forward again.

With a lazy smile, John climbed on the bed in front of Rodney, leaning back and spreading his legs. "I think I can go with that. But you're going to have to make it last. Consider this your appetizer before dinner—you won't be coming until we get back."

Rodney moaned, his eyes widening.

John just stroked himself, letting his head fall back as he fondled one of his own nipples through his shirt with the other hand.

Shifting forward, Rodney leaned down, pausing when his mouth was inches from John's cock. He looked up at John, seeking final permission.

John took his hand away, letting it rest on the back of Rodney's neck. "Make it good. Make it last. Give me an orgasm that will make it hard to function normally in the mess hall."

Rodney held his position for a long moment, eyes focused on the tip of John's cock before he finally lowered his head, lightly kissing it, licking the pre-come away. He continued with the slow, soft kisses and licks, blowing air over wet patches making John shudder.

John let himself fall completely back into the bed, his body tensing and relaxing all at the same time. This felt dirty and delicious. He was still completely dressed, cock pulled out through the slit of his boxers, Rodney naked except for the marks of John's possession, teasing him, pleasuring him.

When Rodney finally opened up and took John into his mouth, he didn’t stop halfway, swallowing John's cock until it hit the back of his throat. He hummed and sucked, bobbing up and down as he worked.

"Oooooohhh..." John exhaled, moaning. He forced himself to let his hands rest by his sides, not giving in to the temptation to help his orgasm along. This was about Rodney and him pleasing John.

A little bit of teeth was added as Rodney's talented mouth made fast work of thing, pushing John right to the edge before backing off and letting John come back down. Again and again, Rodney played with him, teasing him, until he finally swallowed him down once again, finally pushing him over the edge.

"Rodney!" John came with a shout, his world going white as his body went boneless. He twitched helplessly a few times as his lover milked every last ounce of sensation out of him.

Rodney finally pulled off, kissing the tip gently before shifting on the bed, getting back into the position John found him in earlier.

"Nnng. C'mere."

He waited a moment before crawling up the bed, carefully moving around John's outstretched limbs before he curled around Sheppard's body, head pillowed on his shoulder.

John wrapped his arms around his lover, holding him close. "You are so getting some really spectacular sex after dinner."

"Hope so."

Shifting slightly, John pressed his lips to the top of Rodney's head, the only thing he could reach. "You're going to come so hard you see stars. But for now... Love you so god damned much."

"Love you," Rodney whispered, his breath ghosting over John's chest. He shifted and John could feel Rodney's hard cock pressing against his thigh and the warmth of the leather ankle cuff grazing against his leg.

John let his hand rest in the small of Rodney's back, using his thumb to soothe. It took less time than he would have thought for his lover to relax against him. Rodney was still hard, but the desperation had faded some.

The rumble of Rodney's stomach made John chuckle even as the other man grumble in annoyance.

"All right. The sooner we go eat, the sooner we can come back and do wicked things to you. Did you leave me clean, or do I need to go get a washcloth?"

"You should be clean. I did swallow everything."

John hummed. "What did I do to deserve you?"

Rodney shrugged. "It's all Carson's fault."

"Carson's fault? I thought I wooed you with my studly flyboy charms."

"Maybe that was after he shoved us in the Iso room to 'talk'."

"Mmmm. Maybe. But before that, I had kissed you. It was why you were avoiding me in the first place."

"No," Rodney said shaking his head. "The kissing thing was in the Iso room. I distinctly remember it."

"I totally came on to you before that. I remember pushing you against a wall."

Rodney lifted his head, scowling down at John. 'What do you mean came onto me? You were avoiding me like I had the plague and no one would tell me what the hell happened on that backwater planet."

John smiled blandly at him. "Okay, so I was kind of in the middle of realizing I really wanted to fuck you, but I didn't think you would appreciate the sentiment." Using his nails, John ran a hand up Rodney's back. "Lucky for me, I was very wrong about that."

"Oh god, yes," Rodney said with a shudder, looking hungrily down at John.

"So why don't we go get dinner so we can come back and get to it? I believe I owe you some fairly spectacular orgasms. Maybe tonight will be the night I give you the elusive male multiple orgasm."

Rodney shifted slightly, his eyes fixed on John. "We can just start now." He leaned down, aiming at John's lips.

John threaded a hand through Rodney's hair, holding it in place while shaking his own head. "Later. I promise."

"Come on."

John rolled them, so he was on top, pushing Rodney into the bed. "Nope. I need some recovery time anyway, after that phenomenal blowjob. By the time we get back from dinner, I'll be ready for round two."

Rodney lifted his hips, pressing into John's groin. "We can eat later."

"Mmmm. I plan to." John wiggled his eyebrows, then sat up, rolling off his lover. "All right, let's get you presentable so we can go get the necessary stuff out of the way."

Rodney scowled, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked up at John. "I'm dressed perfectly presentable for what I have in mind."

Glancing back, John's dick gave a valiant attempt to twitch at the sight before him. He felt his mouth go a little dry. "Dinner. We have to eat, and then you're coming back here to strip for me again, and wait exactly like you were before. And then I'm going to bury myself in you and I might not ever come back out."

He paused, an eyebrow rising. "While necessity may require you to do otherwise, I do, however, agree with the sentiment of your statement."

John buttoned his BDUs, bringing Rodney's clothes to the bed. "What, you don't think the Marines would respect me if I walked around buried inside you all the time?"

"It would certainly make it difficult to run from the ones who want to take a piece of your hide."

Quickly dressing Rodney, John had to smile to himself—despite the protests, his lover submitted beautifully. "You know, since you've been so good today, I think you deserve a little something extra later. I'm going to pull out the suspension gear when we get back."

Rodney stilled, turning to look at John mid-step on the way to the bathroom. His eyes were wide, both eyebrows high on his forehead. "Really?"

"Mmm hmm. I'll take my time with you, send you deep into headspace." He was already planning, deciding what he would need to pull out.

"Deep? Really?" Oh yeah, Rodney was certainly getting with the program.

Smiling softly, John nodded. "Yes. Really. I promised I would take care of you if you were good, and you've been very good. You will be coming more than once."

And there was the smile John loved, but rarely saw, even when it was just the two of them: open and unguarded and so Rodney that it made John's chest ache.

Stepping closer, John gathered Rodney in his arms, kissing him gently. "Let's go eat so we can get back here and play. I'm going to make you fly so high tonight, you'll touch stars."

And with Rodney's arms around his waist, McKay leaned back just enough to look John in the eye. "I can't wait, sir," he said quietly, reverently.

John didn't even attempt to conceal the shudder that went through him. "We're eating fast. Come on."

Rodney's face and smile was soft as he nodded, letting John lead him out of the room with a hand placed at the small of his back or grazing across his arm. All innocent touches to anyone else, but to John and Rodney it just reinforced their roles, their relationship, them.

The rest of their team was sitting with Carson and Elizabeth when they got there, so they both got food and moved to join the group. John knew Rodney was still partially under, so he took the lead. "Hey, thanks for saving us seats."

Carson looked up at them, eyes narrowing for a moment as he obviously spotted something, but offered a welcoming smile. "Figured you would be along shortly."

Rodney sat down first, and John slipped into the chair across from him. "Yeah, my fault. I got a little wrapped up in something I wanted to finish. McKay was kind enough to wait for me."

"You certainly look better than you did when you returned from the mainland," Elizabeth commented, her eyes drifting quickly between him and Rodney before returning to her food.

"I got over being angry. Actually, I had quite a few soldiers coming to ask about getting more training with Ronon and Teyla, and wanting to know how to get their own scientists trained as well as Rodney is for fieldwork. So it did what I needed it to." John hoped they weren't being that obvious. He didn't think so, but then, he was biased.

"Then you'd consider it a success even with some of the more…creative ways the teams reacted?"

John grimaced a little, waving his fork. "Yes. I don't approve of the decisions they made, but they also made my point for me. And half the men who came to me afterwards weren't ones who ran the course today. They're scheduled for later, and they're determined to make it through in one run."

"Good to know," Elizabeth said, spearing a piece of lettuce with her fork. Rodney had his head down, focused entirely on his dinner and getting odd looks from Carson. Ronon and Teyla were simply watching everyone. Teyla had an amused smile while Ronon was eyeing Rodney's dessert.

John tried for casual, hoping whatever their friends saw it wasn't obvious to the entire mess. "How many more teams do we have signed up for runs right now?"

"I think most everyone. I'm sure you'll get some complaints from the teams that failed today," Elizabeth said.

"Aye. And that paint doesn't come off easily," Carson said with a light chuckle. "They'll be sporting some interesting paint patterns for a while. Where did you get it from?"

John grinned. "It was all Lorne. He had requisitioned the guns and paint before we left Earth. He came from a unit that used them for training, and had the idea of implementing something similar here. He's a smart man."

Carson chuckled, shaking his head. "Aye, sounds like it."

Picking at his dinner, John wondered how much longer they would have to stay before someone got suspicious.

Rodney glanced up from his now-empty plate, meeting John's eyes. "I'm getting coffee. Want any?"

"Yes, thanks." Smiling John wished he could reach out and touch his lover as he walked by. As soon as Rodney was away, he felt the weight of several pairs of eyes on him. "What?"

Carson and Elizabeth shook their heads. Teyla offered a small smile. Ronon though, raised an eyebrow at John—thankfully he didn't say anything.

"He did well today," Carson said finally. "Seems to be back to normal."

"He did a fantastic job, all of you did." John shot a smile at both Ronon and Teyla. "I don't think we could have pulled that off without any of my team members."

Elizabeth glanced over at Rodney as he poured two mugs of coffee before turning back to the table. "Does this mean your team is back up to off-world status?"

Blinking John realized he probably shouldn't be surprised by the question. "I think so, but that's really a question for Kate and Carson. As far as I know, Rodney is still on limited duty."

"I'll give him a check first thing in the morning. He was okay in the field, John?"

"Yes. He did his job, kept up with us. He seemed to be back to himself. I miss being in the field, so if you can clear us, I'd like to get back on rotation. Desk jobs suck."

"You just hate the paperwork," Elizabeth said as Rodney dropped into his chair, two mugs of coffee thumping against the table.

John accepted his, smiling into the cup when he tasted it—exactly how he liked it. "Doesn't everyone? I wasn't built for administration. That's what Lorne is for."

"Actually, Peter used to love it. Seemed to thrive on it," Rodney said without looking up, a bite of the chocolate cake in his mouth.

"Huh." John shook his head. "I guess it takes all kinds then. Give me a plane and sky I haven't seen yet over a stack of paper any day."

Rodney shrugged. "He was good at it, too."

"Want to borrow Lorne? He's pretty good at the details thing. I could rent him out, make some money on the side." John had seen his XO out of the corner of his eye, and timed it so he was walking by as John offered to pimp him out.

"No thanks, sir. I have enough to do you with your paperwork," he said, pausing at the table. "Besides, I do want to have at least a brief facsimile of a social life."

John grinned. "You get to have a social life? Since when? Why wasn't I informed of this?"

Lorne's eyebrow rose and John had the distinct impression that his second knew a little too much about him all of a sudden. "I'll see you in the morning, sir. Doctors, Teyla, Ronon, have a good night," he said as he stepped away, heading for the dessert area and picking up a few things.

Shaking his head, John watched his second grab several extra cookies, then slide them across the table to David Parrish. Huh. Well wasn't that interesting. Returning his attention to his own table, John stretched out, just barely managing to head off Ronon's aborted grab for his pie. "Do I need to start licking all my food as soon as I sit down?"

Ronon shrugged. "I've eaten worse." He eyed the slice of pie again before getting up himself and heading to the food.

Rolling his eyes, John glanced over at Rodney, then pushed the slice across the table at him. He ignored the smirks from the rest of the table. "So I don't know about the rest of you, but I plan to make it an early night. It's been a long day."

Rodney glanced up at John before shoving it back to him. "I'm good. Ronon might want it."

Shrugging, John dug in, taking a bite himself. "Mmm, does this have honey in it?" He was surprised—it tasted a lot sweeter than he thought. He was glad his lover had given it back now.

A fork dropped to the table with a clatter. "Oh no. Not the honey again. If you're going to make all kinds of noises I’m leaving."

John felt himself go red.

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. "Noises?"

"Ah… apparently I make…odd…noises when I have honey. But I really like it! I don't get it very often anymore!" John felt the need to defend himself, even as he knew he was getting more flushed. He did take another bite though—barely managing to refrain from making a happy noise.

Rodney shoved his chair back and stood. "I have some work to do, so if you'll all excuse me, I'll see you in the morning."

Catching Rodney's eye, John gave a quick nod. He would follow along behind in a few minutes. In the meantime, he returned to the pie. If McKay wasn't there to make fun of him, he was going to damn well enjoy it.

Rodney headed out a moment later, hands clutching another mug of coffee as Ronon slid into his chair, an enormous piece of pie on his plate. "Cook said he made this for you, Sheppard. How'd you manage that?"

"He did? Remind me to thank him later. Or buy him really nice knives next time we see a set off-world." John closed his eyes, enjoying the way it felt on his tongue. He knew he shouldn't be enjoying a piece of pie this much, but he didn't get the luxury very often. Opening them again, he eyed Ronon's piece. "You going to eat all that?"

Ronon glared at him in reply.

John pointed across the mess. "Look, a wraith!" When the Satedan glanced over, John tried to steal the plate.

John wasn't expecting the backhand he got, nearly knocking him off his chair.

"Okay, ow. I'm all for defending your pie, but that was a little excessive, don't you think?" Rubbing his jaw, John glared, expanding it to Teyla, Elizabeth and Carson when they all almost doubled over in laughter.

"Serves you right," Carson said. "Trying to steal a man's pie."

Elizabeth shook her head as he stood, still laughing. "Have a good night and please, try not to injure yourself anymore. Pegasus natives seem to do that enough as is."

"Yeah yeah. Laugh it up." John stood as well. "I'll walk with you. Since I'm now pie-less, I think it's time to turn in myself."

After bidding goodnight to the others at the table, John walked alongside Elizabeth, both of them silent.

When they reached the living quarters, he paused, looking her over. "You look like you could use a good night's sleep. It's been a rough month."

"Yes," she nodded, her eyes on the ground in front of her. "It's been a long little while."

Reaching out, he put a hand on her shoulder. "Elizabeth, you know you can talk to me, right? Or Carson, Kate, hell, even Teyla. And there are a lot more people here who admire you and would be willing to lend a sympathetic ear, or shoulder, or whatever you need. I know being at the top is rough, but you aren't alone. You need to stop trying to keep everyone at arm's length."

She turned, offering him a pained smile. "I’m fine. You have more than enough to worry about as is."

"Worrying is part of my job. I take care of my people, and that includes you." Sighing, he squeezed her arm again before letting his hand drop. "I'll see you tomorrow. Try to get some rest."

"I will, John. Have a good night." She stepped into her room a moment later, the door closing quietly behind her.

John picked up the pace, knowing what would be waiting for him when he got to his quarters, his body already tingling in anticipation.

And he wasn't disappointed.

Rodney was in the exact same position he'd been in before, but better. He'd managed to put the two wrist cuffs on along with the locks and had added a gag and blindfold. But when he didn't react at the sound of the door, John walked quietly over to the bed a little suspicious. He caught the sight of something in Rodney's ear and he chuckled to himself. Earplugs.

Taking a moment to just admire, John decided to prep. Moving quietly, and being sure not to bump the bed, he pulled out and quickly set up the suspension rod, hanging it from a hook already installed in the ceiling. Then he pulled out the lube, nipple clamps, anal beads, and a vibrator, putting them all within easy reach.

That done, he returned his attention to Rodney, who was waiting patiently, still not even aware he was there. Grinning, John got himself undressed, slicking up his dick—which had gotten hard again as soon as he walked in—with lube. In one quick motion, he pulled the plug out of Rodney and pushed himself in its place, not stopping until he was completely sheathed.

Rodney moaned loudly, jumping at John's first touch, but relaxing immediately. His whole body was vibrating with need and arousal. And while he was moaning around the gag, he didn't push back against John, holding as still as he could.

Setting a hand in the middle of Rodney's back, John took a minute to just enjoy the tight feel of his lover around him. He made a few short thrusts, but he didn't want to come yet. This was more of a 'hey, I'm here now' thing than something to get him off. That would come later.

When Rodney's moans were starting to get a little desperate, John pulled out completely, ignoring his cock's objection to being removed from its happy place. Tugging and leading, John got his lover standing, hooking him to the bar, and using a spreader bar to secure his feet wide apart. Then he stood back, admiring.

Rodney was tugging at the bindings holding his hands above his head, moaning low in his throat. His head was thrown back slightly revealing the long expanse of his pale neck and the fading bruise John had placed a few days ago.

Moving closer, John ran his hands up and down Rodney's sides, kissing his way down his lover's throat. He nudged and sucked a little on Rodney's Adam's apple, which was vibrating madly as he moaned around the gag. Moving lower, John kissed the bruise, then set about darkening it again, making it vivid and bright against pale skin.

Squirming and straining against the restraints and John, Rodney was whimpering loudly, desperately, panting around the gag as he trembled.

Grinning, John already knew he wanted Rodney to come more than once tonight. For that to happen, he needed to get him off now, to give him time to recover. Grabbing the vibrator, John slicked it up and pushed it inside Rodney slowly, filling him. Once it was in place, pressed firmly against his prostate, John dropped to he knees to lick at the leaking—and thus far ignored—erection.

Rodney howled as soon as John's mouth closed around his cock, thrusting forward slightly into the warm, wet heat but the bindings wouldn't let him get far. He was trembling hard now; his whimpering moans pleading and begging John to let him come.

Chuckling, John knew the vibrations would only ramp Rodney up further. He set about driving him crazy, keeping it up until Rodney was keening, desperate and needy and nearly sobbing with the need to come. Without warning, John pulled the ring off and sucked hard right on the head of Rodney's dick.

With a keening yell, Rodney came, pouring down John's throat as his body trembled and shook with the intensity of his orgasm. He slumped, his arms holding him upright as his head lolled forward.

Licking him clean, John stood, wrapping his arms around Rodney to hold him until he woke up. John pulled one earplug free for the moment, so his lover could hear him when he did start to stir.

It didn't take long before John felt Rodney shifting against him, straightening as best he could. He moaned quietly when he realized he was still restrained, tugging at the bindings holding his hands.

Mouthing a little at the ear he had freed, John whispered softly. "I'm here. But we aren't done yet. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be hard and needy again, and you'll come for me again. Then, when you're loose and relaxed after two orgasms, I'm going to fuck you hard and fast and come deep inside you."

Rodney trembled, turning his head toward John, leaning into him. He whimpered quietly, panting around the gag.

John hummed, using his tongue to trace the band of leather around Rodney's mouth. "First things first. I'm going to put the earplug back in. Then I'm going to play with you all over again."

Rodney moaned again, but turned his head to give John the access he needed. God…John thought once the earplug was finally back in place and he stepped back. Rodney was so responsive, so perfect…everything he wanted, but hadn't even known he needed.

John quickly moved, putting the Ancient cock ring into place and activating it with a thought as it tightened down. He kept the vibrations low. He wanted to start slowly.

He stepped back again and took in his trembling lover, letting out a pleased breath of air as he watched Rodney squirm and struggle, moaning and whimpering quietly as he started to lose himself in the sensations.

Moaning a little himself, John retrieved the beads he had pulled out earlier, teasing at Rodney's entrance with the first one before pushing it inside him. By the time they were all in, McKay was trembling, making soft noises every time he shifted, causing the beads to move and bump into each other.

But John didn't stop there. With his hands caressing Rodney's skin—anywhere he could touch—John slid around to the front, sucking a nipple into his mouth. He teased it with teeth and tongue before moving onto the second one and repeating the process. Rodney was squirming and moaning under John's ministrations.

But he was far from finished.

John had gotten the tweezer-style clamps out for Rodney's nipples, knowing they would already be sensitive from his teasing. Those were attached now, a chain running between them. Then, using just the tip of one nail, John stimulated every sensitive area he could find on Rodney's body.

And Rodney reacted, keening and moaning and groaning as his skin was teased and tormented, his cock already red and hard and leaking as John played with him.

Moving back behind Rodney, John couldn't help fitting himself along his lover's back, thrusting a few times into the curve of Rodney's ass. He kissed the back of McKay's neck softly, then scraped his teeth over the area a few times.

Rodney was melting and John could feel it as he leaned back, pressing himself closer to John. Sweat glistened on his lover's skin as he continued to tremble.

Reaching down, John worked a finger in alongside the beads, jostling them, loving the strangled gasps and groans he got for it.

Chuckling, John teased him, maneuvering his finger so he could press against Rodney's prostate, pulling a keening whine from Rodney as his body shuddered hard, straining against the bonds holding him in place.

With a wicked grin, John pulled his fingers free slowly. He reached up, pulling off the blindfold and earplugs, but leaving the gag in place. Once he was sure Rodney was watching him, blinking slowly, he sprawled in one of the chairs, spreading his legs wide. “You look so pretty like this. I think I just want to watch for a while.”

Rodney's eyes widened when his brain finally kicked in and he realized John was across the room. It was at that moment that John sent a thought to the cock ring, upping the vibrations.

Spreading his legs wide, John trailed his fingers down his own sides, over his thighs, avoiding the spots he knew would push him further than he wanted to go.

Rodney's hands were clenching and unclenching above his head as he strained against the bindings holding him in place, moaning and demanding through the gag.

"Mmmm, not enough of a view for you? Maybe I should spice it up a bit." Reaching back, John snagged the vibrator, bringing it up where Rodney could see.

Rodney shook his head even as he watched John get up, his eyes following him until John stepped behind him.

John turned on the vibrator, watching Rodney jerk as he heard it. Slowly, he walked around circling his lover, letting him see the dildo each time he passed in front. Finally, after a few passes, when Rodney was wound tight, John stopped in front of him. "Do you want to watch me fuck myself? Watch me fall apart, knowing exactly what it feels like to have those vibrations buried deep inside?"

Panting around the gag, Rodney shook his head no, his eyes fixed intently on John.

"No? Too bad you don't really get a say." Letting his smile turn almost feral, John turned so he could watch Rodney watching the dildo as he slowly teased himself. It had been a while since he had had his ass played with, so he moved slow.

About a minute later, he saw something shift across Rodney's face. He'd stopped tugging at his bindings and moaning, instead falling completely silent. His eyes were focused entirely on John's ass where the dildo was just breaking his entrance. The need and want and arousal, though, were clearly etched into every part of his face.

Panting a little, John shifted, letting the dildo slide a little further inside him. "I like being fucked. I should tie you down and ride you more often. Do you wish it was your dick pushing inside my tight ass right now?"

It took a few beats before Rodney responded, shaking his head from side-to-side.

Raising an eyebrow, John tried to keep his focus. "No? I wish it was you. I like your dick, and I like the way it feels. Maybe later, I'll take you that way."

Rodney lifted his eyes briefly, his pupils dilated and half-lidded. God…he was so beautiful like that. Lost in his own arousal and longing, hungry and needy and wanting.

Pulling the dildo free, John straightened, letting Rodney see how hard and red and wet he was. After his lover had gotten a good long look, John moved behind him, teasing Rodney's entrance with the same vibrator, although he couldn't push it in because of the beads.

Rodney's head tilted back and to the side and he moaned quietly as his eyes slid closed. Beautiful. So beautiful, John thought as Rodney gave himself up to the sensations. There were times like these that John wished the beads vibrated, wanting to give his lover the dual sensations. Maybe one day they'd find more of the Ancient sex toys. Those were fun.

Rodney had fallen deeply into subspace, and the sight was pushing John further and further to the edge. Pulling the dildo away, he turned it off and tossed it to the bed. Wrapping his arms around Rodney, he started to rock them together, not enough to get either of them off, more about the contact. "So perfect. So fucking perfect..."

John's hands stroked and caressed Rodney's chest and stomach, trailing through the hair, circling around the clamped nipples. They dipped lower, his fingers teasingly light as they ghosted over Rodney's hips and pelvis to the crease where his leg meets his torso before returning back upward once again.

He continued to stroke as he licked a little patch on Rodney's neck. "Mine, all mine."

They rocked together, fitting perfectly, John's hands hot on Rodney's skin, his mouth sucking and licking at the small patch of skin just below the metal collar before biting down, drawing a deep groan from Rodney.

John's fingers found the cock ring, teasing around it. "I want you. You feel so damn good, taste so damn good…"

Rodney's body shivered and trembled under John's touch, a low groan rumbling from deep inside as John sent the cock ring a brief thought. It opened slowly, just as John had asked, letting Rodney get used to the sensation. He didn't want his lover coming before he was ready.

"You're going to come when I pull the beads out. You're going to come so hard you scream for me. I want to hear you lose control. And then, while you're trembling with aftershocks, I'm going to bury myself inside you again. Don't pass out. I want you to scream again as I take you, stimulating all those sensitive nerves and sending pleasure sparking through you."

Another low moan rumbled as he leaned back into John.

"After you feel me come, filling you, then you're allowed to pass out if you want to. But in the meantime, I want you awake for every pulse, every stroke over your prostate even as the shocks from the beads are still making you shiver. Do you understand?"

This time it was whimper as Rodney trembled against him, the barest of nods answering him.

Panting into Rodney's ear, John fingered the string, tugging softly on it a few times before ripping it out in one long pull.

Even before all of the beads left Rodney's body he was coming, streams of come coating his stomach as he howled through the gag, his gasping breaths ending in whimpers as his body trembled and shook.

John didn't waste any time, replacing the beads with his own dick while Rodney was still spasming. He found his lover's prostate quickly and began to thrust hard, hitting it on every stroke.

With his head hanging forward, his shoulders and back glistening with a light sheen of sweat, Rodney whimpered and moaned, the sound only increasing with each and every thrust as John continued to milk Rodney's orgasm, drop after drop leaking from his semi-hard but softening cock. His hands were wrapped around the straps holding him up, binding him upright.

John was close, the feeling of Rodney coming pushing him over the edge. With a strangled moan, he came pumping erratically into his lover as sensation overwhelmed him for a moment.

When John finally came back, Rodney was hanging from the straps, breathing heavily and whimpering. John was leaning nearly all of his weight on his lover.

"S'rry. You're so good, I think I lost brain cells." Pulling out carefully, John unhooked Rodney's ankles first, then his wrists, helping him over to the bed.

Rodney moved slowly, letting John move him and guide him before finally settling him on his side on the bed. He immediately curled up, pulling his knees up toward his chest, a whimpering moan still coming from him with every few breaths.

John climbed into the bed behind him, spooning around his lover, holding him close. He did manage to work the gag free, tossing it onto the floor behind him—Rodney's jaw had to be getting sore. "We can clean up later."

A single nod of his head and Rodney's hand closed over John's as he tried to tug John just a little closer.

Obliging, John slipped a knee between Rodney's legs, twining their fingers together. "Love you."

"Mmm," was Rodney's only reply as his eyes slid shut, his body limp and boneless, his breathing evening out a few seconds later as he either dropped into slumber or passed out.

Smiling, John made himself comfortable. Things were definitely looking up. It had been a long month, but he knew everything was going to be just fine. With a soft, content sigh, John followed his lover into a deep, dreamless sleep.

***

The End 


End file.
